my persons, my words.

And he said, “Please, let’s not ruin this moment with words you know won’t fulfill. Let’s just sit here, and embrace each other, reminiscing about the things we once were, and remember what we’ve become.”

“I like what I’ve become. I like it that nothing in me matches. I love the way I make up words and feelings and ways to kiss you everyday. I enjoy the way I can write poems while we sit on the greenest grass breathing the freshest air. I like it all. Don’t you?”

As she said this, she turned to him, waiting for his sweet reply. He was staring deep into the clouds, trying to decipher one of the beautiful cotton balls.

“It’s a heart, you know, that cloud right in front of us,” he responded while pointing at the cloud. Then he ripped a piece of grass from mother earth and smelled it, inhaling its utter freshness.

“Is that really all you are able to say?” she said, disappointed. She was actually waiting for him to profess his love to her. Little did she know that he wasn’t a guy of words, but of actions. Still, she was a girl of words, and she needed to listen to those precious words come out from his lips.

“Haven’t I given you enough? Haven’t I brought down the moon and the stars from above each night to accompany you while you lay in bed without me? Haven’t I ripped my heart out from a stable and healthy environment only to lay it on your hands, not caring whether you’ll crush it or care for it with your own? Haven’t I given you all you’ve ever asked of me? Haven’t my actions been enough?”

He was standing up now, as he spoke with a very cold and striking tone. He never thought she would ask him for his words, his most precious keepsake. But she had, and now he was devastated.

And as he stood up, her eyes were filling up with tears that cut deep into her skin when spilled. She was so much more devastated than he was, and she was trying to let him know, trying to make him heal her.

Then the first tear ran down the soft fields of red that inhabited her cheeks, cutting down deep into her soul. And he could feel it. He could feel how it cut her, because it was cutting him too, because when two people are truthfully as in love as them, they are able to feel each other’s pains, sorrows, and happiness as if it was their own.

So he ran to her with what little will was left in him, and as tears fell onto his cheeks, he kissed her, kissed her deeply.

“I love you… I love you! With actions and now with words. I’ve served you the only thing left in me on a silver platter, my words, so you can have. Because it’s true, the feeling is much stronger than words themselves! And you deserve them all, because you’ve been the product of this feeling. It’s all you. Thank you…”

And then her soul healed, as simple as that, with just words. Because some words are strong enough to heal when there’s love present in them.