Part Of Love Is Letting A Person

When He Talked To You, You Seemed To Fit In, But When Someone Else Was Talking, Or He Would Be Distracted, You Jsut Looked Lonely Over There. At Least To Me. But Whenever I Would Tell You That, You'd Say "i'm Fine. I Just Slip Out Of It, You Know?" And I'd Say "i'll Catch You," And You Would Say, "it's Not The Kind Of Slipping You Can Catch.

And Still, For All The Jealously, All The Doubt, Sometimes I Will Be Struck With A Kind Of Awe That We're Together. That Someone Like Me Could Find Someone Like You --- It Renders Me Wordless. Because Surely Words Would Conspire Against Such Luck, Would Protest The Unlikelihood Of Such A Turn Of Events.

Moments Into Minutes. Minutes Into Hours. Hours Into Days. Days Into Years. Years Into Possibility. This Will Linger.

I Just Needed To Realize That Style Was Like Personality - It Didn't Always Have To Be Consistent; It Just Had To Be Something You Lived With.

Eventually She Fell Asleep, But I Kept The Phone Against My Ear, Lulled By Her Breathing, And Her Breathing Again In The Background. And Yes, It Felt Like Home. Like Everything Belonged Exactly Where It Was.