oh, words.

they mean nothing.

you can't always be a free spirit, you know.

i'm still scared to let people in... perhaps more ashamed than scared.
i... am ... not that good of a person.
virtues, values, goals ... in retrospect, they never meant anything to me.
and now i want them all... i need them.

he didn't let go of me because of where his life had taken him, that moment at that time... he said: "the point of no return has passed already."

empathy.
the capacity to recognize or understand another's state of mind or emotion.
em+pathos.
if i am passionate about life, i should not have an issue with being an empathetic person. To feel what he feels, to think as he thinks, to know & understand.
because knowing is greater than understanding. . . to feel, essentially.

what i know is this: i don't want to hide from him, and this encompasses all aspects of myself- my life, daily activities, aspirations, even the things i know i should not be doing or thinking. i want to be able to express myself to him, fully- as he does with me.

[SPOTLIGHT]

Our hearts set in concrete.
Molded together.
“Do you think we’ll always be this way?”
I peer up at his moonlit face and await his response;
His words tumble out, clumsily at first,
But he catches his breath, starts over.
I drown in his words, holding his gaze.
I’m here, I’m listening, I’m yours.
His fingers interlock in mine through conversation.
“it was hard, we were both upset. But also relieved.”
Relief… release… surrender.
I’m still unsure of how I felt.
My eyes wander off, searching through the darkness for clarity.
An epiphany.
Stability for my emotions.
I come back to him and his hands cradle my face.
Forefinger brushing aside loose strands.
I watch his lips move up & down, but only a whisper escapes:
“I love you.”
Repetitive motions lose substance, meaning.
Those words have not.