she has a secret.
her secret is that she thinks they are both filled with an undiluted joy about one another. she must admit she is really quite thrilled at his existence. he says sweet things for no other reason than the simple pleasure of saying them. and he is saying them about her, which she finds strange but is choosing not to question.
her secret is that this is her favorite part. this slow circling and wondering and easy dreaming. like the word ‘maybe’ formed out of blue cotton candy. or building a sand castle at low tide and waiting for the ocean to come take back the shore.
thanks for not being the kind of awful boy who is afraid to show that he feels things.
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