You are the gentle thumb sweeping across the back of my hand.
You are clutching my fingers in your hand, the reassuring squeeze.
The goosebumps of a warm rain on a cold night.
You are emanating love.
* * *
It was a strange and beautiful weekend. I learned you didn’t think too much of yourself, that you really were scared because of what girls had done to you in the past. My hurt hurt. You need to know what I think of you, drunk and sober. The kindest I had ever met. The most beautiful soul to experience. I want to love your pieces back together.
You must have hit your head pretty hard because you told me you love me.
I was running around, wishing for clones as I searched for your dog, searched for a bag of ice, searched Google about head injuries.
I told you I…
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