I wonder if it’s possible to fall in love with someone’s words.

Because I don’t love you — I don’t love the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, or the lines I’ve traced a thousand times across your palms. I don’t love how you talk with your hands or the sharp edges of your jawline or even the pace of your walk. I don’t love the smiles (and secrets) we share and I don’t love the touch of your hand on the small of my back, as light as a butterfly’s kiss.

But I love the way you speak and god, I love the way you write. I love the care you take to enunciate each word, as if you’re cupping each syllable in clasped hands before releasing. I love the cadence in your voice, the way it lilts up and down and how it sounds like music to my ears. I love how your hand holds a pen with all the elegance of a knight drawing his sword, and how you use it just as effectively. I love your harsh punctuation and the crispness of your words, how sentences of yours feel like a sharp intake of breath. And I love the way you get lost in your writing and how sometimes, your sentences can go on for miles, spinning a story that draws me in so completely. I love the pictures you can paint with just your words, the clarity and the ambiguity, the objectivity and subjectivity. I love how the only way I can even attempt describe you is with opposites, because you, my dear, are much too complex to define.

Preach the truth. Check out Grace’s blog. She is a wonderful person who expresses herself so beautifully.


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