“People say I love you all the time - when they say, ‘take an umbrella, it’s raining,’ or ‘hurry back,’ or even ‘watch out, you’ll break your neck.’ There are hundreds of ways of wording it - you just have to listen for it, my dear.”

— The Curious Savage (John Patrick)

But people say “I don’t love you” in little ways too. The way

they leave blackholes in your chest

when you leave them with a thousand drunken apologies. The way

they would lead the butterflies into your stomach

and swat them all from the inside. The way they

break their promise of waiting

for you at the other end of the aisle of a

half garden, half beach wedding. The way they let you wake up

to dial tones, and empty beer bottles on a Christmas morning. Maybe

you have to pay attention too. Maybe

it’s time for you to leave.

The hardest thing I had to do was leave you. No amount of words can explain how much I wanted to stay or how much I wanted to take you with me. You know that by how tightly I held your hand in silence on our way to the airport. You know that by the way I kept showing up at your front step every single day, two months before I had to leave.

I refuse to believe we happened at the wrong time-- not when everything with you felt right. Gloomy days, storms, heavy traffic, late night walks with all the potential thieves surrounding, fast food, and ten kids-- God, ten kids still sounds like a good idea with you. And we both know I was never for these kind of things. But I love you with a love so much that it spins me off of my axis.

The hardest thing I did was leaving you. And I know that I did not kiss you at the airport. That I did not even say I love you. But I will come back. And I will never leave again.

And I will make sure I get to kiss you and tell you I love you every single day, from then on.