All My Love, Even More of My Friendship

How many times have we sat just like this? Our are backs to her headboard, pillows strewn across the bed, just together.
The talking's begun to wind down now--we're tired, and it's many hours past midnight. But we can't sleep yet. There's still so much to say, to feel.
How do we always, every time, say so much?
She's so beautiful when I look at her on those nights. Her eyes sparkle, those lashes adding a special light--it looks like all of the magic inside her soul is glittering out of them. Her eyebrows arch up in that almost surprised-looking smile. Her mouth--she thinks it's too big, but I know that it's perfect. How else could her smile spead through the whole room, with those little dimple-creases that form at the corners? I would feel lost without that sweet grinch smile.
Her legs are pulled up to her chest, powerful legs and a delicate torso. In all the times she dresses up, she is not more beautiful than when she wears a pair of sleep shorts and a thin, little tank top. Arms linked around her legs, she smiles that mysterious smile that tells me she is thinking about something, something she'll tell me--
What would have happened if we hadn't met, Sarah? she wonders aloud. How would we get along without such a friend as we have in each other?
How many times have I wondered why I am so lucky?