When I close my eyes, I see a slideshow of all the things I forgot about you and I close them for days to just try to grasp everything I cherish so I can write them all down on a pink sticky note and keep it for the years to come, but when I open my eyes I realize a few things.
i. Some things are better felt than recorded.
ii. You’re complicated, I’ve known you for months and I still cannot grasp every little fragment of your face, your smile, your spirit.
iii. Your heart is like a wheel that can’t stop clicking and squeaking, palpitating underneath my hand. You expose it so openly, and I’m not going to pour oil into it to make it stop, for it is beautiful, otherworldly, and breathtaking. It deserves to be heard, it needs to be felt.
And now I close my eyes once more, and I remember the one thing I’ve smiled about for what felt like a millennium.
i. Your face.
ii. Your face is like a puzzle to my brain, dripping with mystery and light. It’s one of those memorable ‘this is what it should look like once you’re done’ illustrations that normally come with puzzles.
iii. The thing I remember most is your face, and that I feel it is the most beautiful thing since the music of Bach and Mozart.
I remember
Every detail
Every pore
Every speckle
Each time your breath catches in your throat, as if you have feelings you need to express, but you don’t know exactly how to say it—so instead you show it.
I. Love. Love.
I. Love. You.
