Feelings On Paper

Weightless Phrase [forgotten]

I love you

Three words said every day,
but they're meaning have lost their weight.

Repeatedly I tell you,
"I love you,"
you know this as you reply,
"I love you too."

I love you,
use to be so hard to even mumble.

The weight of the phrase was heavy on my tongue,
the strings holding shut my lips,
and the fear that came with it tightening my throat.

Now,
there isn't a day where I don't say it at least five times—
never once as it is never enough.

I love you,
has lost that weight;
the weight of that anxiety,
the weight of having to keep holding back,
the weight of possible outcomes if I ever said it at the wrong time.

But with that weight being lost,
I love you has become something of the norm.

Every day I hear it from your lips,
in the morning,
in the evening,
and right before I fall asleep in your arms.

The sad part is,
that every day with you is not the norm just yet.

The rare days in which I don't hear those words,
turn that weight against me,
it comes back to haunt me.

"Have I bothered him too much?"
"I've texted him too much."
"Does he want space?"
"I'm being too clingy."
"Have I become too dependent?"

The truth is,
I know the answer to one of those questions.

I've become dependent on those weightless words:
"I love you."

Because without those words,
I cannot hear your carefreeness through them,
I cannot hear the smile that comes with them,
I cannot hear the content sigh right after they are said,
I cannot see your bright eyes as you stare into mine,
I cannot see your face drawing closer to it's accompanying action,
I cannot see you.

I love you,
weightless to the ear,
calming and soothing to my mind,
yet so heavy to the heart,
exploding emotions of pure and absolute joy.

I love you,
a phrase I was terrified of hearing,
now one I cannot live a day without hearing.