Did I ever tell you, the first time I saw you, I fell? In love?
That we were in the making for a year and a half – you just didn’t know it? That I stayed silent, keeping my emotions in check and that it seemed like forever, and even longer? That, for 1 year, 6 months, the voices in my head, time after time, gave me reasons? Reasons to stay silent? That, I finally plucked-up the courage, to say something? That… That… That….?
The first time I saw you, words I never heard before hummed in my head. Hummmmmmmm. The first time I saw you I wrote a first poem. And a second. And then, a third. And, with all those sweet humming words, I wrote a fourth, and have not stopped humming words since. But after 1.6 years, with all those letters, and with all those words, I didn’t even know how write out your name.
I thought the moon and stars rose in your eyes. I did. I still do.
Like so many times before, times which I know like the back of my hand, you walk into the room, you grab a coffee, and you sit down next to me. And, like the back of my hand, which I know so well, the voices tell me to stay silent. I do. Once again, we sit, side-by-side, silence in-between our space. But then I hear that hummmmmmmmm. Those sweet words, those sweet humming words start to fill my head. Build, build, build. Building until I have enough words to finally ask, ‘did I ever tell you, the first time I saw you I fell? In love?’
You smile that smile that I know like the back of my hand, and reply, ‘yes, that’s why I married you.’