I guess at the end of the day, what is most important will, more often than not, be left unsaid.
Because you see, words diminish intentions. I think of you and I remember how we met or the little things you do like hold open doors for me, feed me the best/last part of your meal or carry me despite you being tired. I almost forget what it's like to hold your hand or how safe I feel in your arms, tracing the spectrum of colours with my fingertips, right up until Im losing my shit in silly situations like blood tests and injections. And all these swell up to this longing but all I can afford to muster is; I miss you.
Except "I miss you" just doesn't cut it, does it.
I will constantly be a mess of impulse, stubbornness and capricious whims. You will never fully understand the copious ways in which I behave and I will never be able to find the words help you try.
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