Three Little Words

The first time I knew what love meant
I didn’t even know how to write an L, an O, a V, or an E.
Love was when I sat at the window watching my mother drive away for work,
Worried she was through with me.
Love was knowing these fears were pointless every time she came home.
When I would stay up too late waiting for her
And I’d half open my eyes to my dark living room.
The TV was my full moon giving off blue light.
My mother would find me when coming home,
Her and my father then carried me to bed.
That was love.
Having my mother read the same illustrated story at least once a week,
Because I just knew the family in the book was our household.
My mother smiled,
At that time age had no affect on her,
And she would tell me this book was written just for me.
The lie was out of love.
As I grew older I wondered how many other little, brunette girls knew this to be true.
 
My definition of love matured at the age of five.
Public school affected my life in many forms,
But the greatest of these changes was you.
Each time I talked about you people could tell you were something special.
Constructing fairy houses and acting out Disney shows and movies
Were the most important parts of my life.
The content itself meant next to nothing,
If not crossing over into nothing’s yard illegally.
What truly mattered was doing it all with you.
When our other friends were with me and you were home
I still enjoyed myself,
But I knew it did not matter as much.
My heart knew,
Because I taught it to yearn for your love.
The years we did not share a classroom
Where the worst years at that school.
No one’s tolerance of me matched your sincere wonder.
There was not one person there who could make a more beautiful fairy house.
Then again, I may be biased.
 
Over the pass ten years you’ve worked a spell on me.
If there is an antidote I do not possess any desire for it.
I would not be surprised if you were the first person outside of my family I knew I loved.
I do not know when my love for you began to change,
Nor do I know what moment yours also started evolving into something
Different
Stronger
Heavier
Deeper.
At what time did we stop saying “I love you, sister,”
And start just saying “I love you?”
How long before verbally dropping the sisterly affection
Did we know?
When did “I love you” stop meaning “You’re my pal?”
Was it when it began translating to “I need you” in my brain?
That was when I read your “I love you”’s as “I’m not going anywhere.”
All at once my love for you hit me in the face everyday.
I feared saying those three little words without knowing you understood their depth.
The reason I always tell you that I love you
Is not for the pleasure of hearing it back,
But for you to know it to be true.
Instead of telling you good-bye
I only say “I love you,”
For my love isn’t going anywhere.
You own it,
And only you can release it.
Last summer we said these words,
The both of us knowing what the other meant.
Now “I love you” isn’t just something said,
But is an action.
A touch.
We’ve professed our love in one look.
Lips no longer just speak love.
There are many ways my hands can sign for you.
 
No matter how you deliver the message
My soul turns into champagne
And the bubbles float into an ocean of stars.
You can give me an out of body experience
With just a stolen text in class.
Every day I am with you, you lift me up,
My feet dangling in the air and it is as if I am wearing wings.
I pray for them to never let me fall back on the ground,
For fear that it will do damage.
When I am drunk on your affection
This crummy, cramped, creation filled with crap
Is a little brighter.
You make my heart and brain fuse into one
Focused and stuck on you
Like a broken lighthouse only able to shine in one direction.
All of this because of three little words.
 
If ten years can turn me into this mess,
Can you fathom what ten more years would do to me?
If there are fifteen more after today
I don’t know if my heart will be able to take it.
If you cause it to overwork and give out
I hope you have money for my heart implant.
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