Maybe Love Doesn't Change
I loved you. And I never really understood how much that word weighed until I started carrying it in my pockets. I marveled at how it sunk deep into my vocabulary and took over every syllable left in my mouth. I tried so hard to plan out the confession and the speech I would deliver to you so beautifully. But that word, with all its weight, foiled those plans. Things changed quicker than I could exhale a breath. I was in the middle, before I saw it all begin. And that’s how fast love happens. It doesn’t politely knock on your door, or mail itself to you in an envelope, waiting to be opened. It just storms through your life and steals you. And then… On the phone, hours into a cool September night, I stuttered to you. I said your name. You were rambling and I had long stopped listening. In my head, all I heard was my own thoughts I love you, I love you, I love you. I said your name again. You stopped. A pause. A breath for me to deliver something eloquent. A...