Before we said I love you, we said we really liked each other. It made me fell like a kid in a pillow fort.
Now sometimes we use it as an apology, “I’m sorry I love you” or is it “I’m sorry, I love you.” It confuses me.
Other times it seems to be an excuse, “But I love you” and that cuts. We use it to defend bad behaviour, for forgetting that thing we said we wouldn’t, or to cancel out the thing we said that we shouldn’t.
It sells our love short. Like a tacky card. Like pouring cement into a bowl instead of water. No room for other words, for sounds, tastes or feelings. It’s just there. A lump of love. And we both get to carry it. We each have one and it’s ours. And we are supposed to be satisfied with it?
Sometimes I feel it in my pocket. Kind of weighing me down. Like maybe I’d be more without your love. Maybe you would too. Maybe the people we fell in love with, aren’t these things in our pockets. Maybe we love one another without the other.
I miss the letters that described the feelings. I miss touches that I felt so deeply I’d gasp. I miss silences that said more than “I love you”. I miss music that you’d send to say the words you couldn’t. I miss dancing around it. I miss the bowl of water I could swirl around in. I miss the pillow fort. I didn’t ask for cement. I didn’t ask for this weight. I didn’t ask for this you.
I’m sorry I love you.Return to issues