Long ago I stopped saying all the tiny things I wanted to say
. I figured that if someone wanted to hear them they would pluck them from my thoughts and listen from my eyes.
The trouble with this is that when I need to say them now I find myself all stutter
s and mumble
s and under-my-breath-I-love-yous
and none of the right words are loud enough.
I have never said them loud enough because I was always so afraid of the noise. Because so many people are shouting these things when they don't mean them and I-love-yous string across roads like electrical wires. Too commonplace and unfelt and fake
. What happens when I say these things and they are drowned out by everyone else's noise?
Kate has figured out already that I am not going to come shouting about how I love her or want her or don't want to leave this world without her
. She knew all of these things from the beginning anyway. The day in the coffee shop
when I gave her my heart, she figured out all my secrets right then and there. And I never needed to say a word.
She knows how to harvest the things that I am thinking and keep them in boxes and letters and unsigned doodles and someday she will write the book
She already knows that just by taking her hand I am saying more than just I love you and that I am finding a way to do it
without sounding trite. She already knows that by brushing my fingers through her hair
and resting my chin on her shoulder that I think she is beautiful.
Because the words are already there
, repeated in glances and touches and effortless breaths of everyday love
. They don't need sound frequencies or echoes because they will come in much louder and clearer without them.
It is understood and I never need to say the words