(ellipsis)

i love her…

…and i wish she’d be a little gentler with herself. ‘even a broken clock is right twice a day,’ she told me once. no matter the hour, or where the second hand lies, the original rhythm remains inside. all the answers will come in time, by way of no clock but her own.

i love her…

…so the acoustic version of Everlong will never be the same for me. last summer, we’d kissed, just kissed, for three hours in my bedroom to an acoustic playlist of the same seventeen songs. kissing her is the closest i have ever come to perfection.

i love her…

…and i know it feels like her sky’s falling down in waves, she’s sinking slowly. i want to be her rock, that coastline with the beacon that spells safe harbour; no, i want to be the ship that braves the storm just to keep her warm.

i love her…

…when she sings. no one sings like she does, no one. in the car, her energy conducts hotwired music. she exhales along with the sound system and she becomes the song that’s stuck in my head.

i love her…

…even though she’s painfully intractable. ‘i’m just me,’ she says, and i almost laugh. of course she’s her; that’s who i fell for, and i knew what i was getting into, through both the simple and the struggle.

i love her…

…pants, slick wet with water and sweat after a long work shift, her smile roughed up as much as her hands. off-work but at work, she brushed her cheek against mine, a kiss goodbye so quick anyone looking would miss it. these small moments mean everything.

i love her…

…and i want to say to her, with my words and eyes, ‘you are so beautiful. you are so beautiful,’ in such a way that she can not again say softly after, ‘no.’ she is worth it, worth everything. baby, happy birthday.

i love her…

…and she doesn’t owe me anything, no. i am here freely. when fireworks dizzy the darkness with carousels of colour, i hope that she thinks of freedom. yes, of the country, but also, in time, of love.

i love her…

…and i didn’t want it to be easy. i wanted to mean it, to be sure i meant it. so i fought it. for months i tried to deny it. but i am sure. and i do mean it. and i can’t fight that any more. she’s undeniable.

i love her…

…and the way she looks at me. she says her eyes are dull, but they’re a crescent city sunrise in july, a kaleidoscope of redwood and summer. warm, deep brown with flecks of red, small streaks of gold in hiding.

i love her…

…yet she has only ever asked one thing of me: ‘don’t forget me.’ difficult, because i have a terrible memory. but i try. every time i stare too long, i kiss too hard, i hold too close, i’m making a memory. something i can keep to keep my promise.

i love her…

…so when she had said it all was too much, i just learned to say things softer. and when that is too much, i say things silently, with just my heartbeat. i am learning how to love her. it is worth the effort.

i love her…

…because she’s different, she knows she is, and it laces her breath and her words. because for all the reasons and all the words, it comes down to something undefinable, inexplicable; no reasons, no words.

i love her…

…even at her worst. though rare, she can be selfish, forgetful, insensitive, and stubborn as hell. in truth, i like that she’s stubborn. i adore her disaster, dance with her dangers. she is entitled to them. if i can’t love the worst in her, i don’t deserve her best.

i love her…

…though that may be hard to swallow. ‘how can you like such a dark person?’ she asked once. i want her darkness; i do not edit it with nightlights, false amenities. i am not afraid of the dark.