What exactly is normal?

A sunset is what I'm reminded of.
It slowly falls as I watch you beside me, goosebumps riddling my skin.
My head on your shoulder and I feel the best
I feel relaxed
I feel so calm

Yet my heart skips and my skin tingles
And a smile pulls at my lips.

What exactly is normal?

A garden is what I'm reminded of.
I remember what you say.
From small, tiny seeds that bloom to large shady trees or iridescent flowers of pale or plain black.
They shimmer and I can only stare in awe.

What exactly is normal?

Making you smile is what I'm reminded of.
You can tell me anything and everything
And I wouldn't let go.
Because everything is valid, even if others turn their heads or give us strange looks.

Are we normal?

I don't think we are.

Because then,
why would I wait for you for so long?