I yearn for something I'm utterly convinced exists.
I yearn for a knowing smile, a private glance.
I yearn for a neck to nuzzle up to, to tell of every little delight.
In return I yearn for being a shoulder to snuggle up to, to listen to every little problem.
I yearn for sharing ability, for accomplishing more than I could alone.
In return I yearn for relishing another's achievement.
I yearn for a warm body to hold, not because it's cold, but because warmth gives life.
In return I yearn for giving safety through my warmth.
I yearn for caressing a sleeping tuft of hair, to indulge in its scent.
In return I yearn for being an object of affection.
I yearn to whisper a proposition.
In return I yearn for tacitly accepting one whispered to me.
I yearn to wake up to a smile, to smile in return, to know that that's exactly how things are supposed to be.
Most importantly, I yearn to be sure that yearning is not all there is to it.