I’ve never been the type of person to say, “I love you.” Those three words, so little on paper, so short on the tongue, hold such monstrous and colourful causes behind them it makes my heart quake. But here he stands before me, the edges of my gaze focused upon his face. The fault lines of my soul crash into one another, crumbling the great structures of my emotions into desolate rubble. With everything inside me I want to scream those three monstrous, colourful little words. He turns, his hand reaching out as if to touch mine and his small gesture seems to be erecting a mountain out of the desert of my existence. Our fingers interlace. My mind is a hurricane. I see my own storm reflected in his eyes. And I realize I do not have to say the words at all. We both know them by heart.