As we prepared ourselves
to leave even though we had time to spare
he turned to look at me
and he
swept me into his arms and began to tell me everything; he told me his life, who he was, and his love for me; and as he whispered all this into my ear, I heard and I listened and I heard the fear in his voice and the speed of his speech so very afraid to lose me; I heard his courage to take a chance to speak, with every fiber in his being fighting to keep me; I heard his love for me; I felt his scared beating heart against my chest as I was wrapped in his desperate, scared, gentle, loving arms; I didn’t want him to stop—keep talking, keep showing yourself, keep leaving your scared insecure self bare—I see you










I love you
don’t ever stop.
And when he finally ran out of words and poetry for me he tried to apologize and put the space between us again and I realized I couldn’t bear it.

I stopped him and told him: “Don’t ever let me go!” And I told him everything.

I told him who I was, my fear and my insecurities; I told him my life; and I told him with every fiber in my being



“I love you.”
The air was knocked out of him and he struggled to gain it back—he was sobbing, he was laughing, he was crying, he was gasping before finally he pulled away and gazed at my tears of love for him, the bareness of my self, my insecure self, on full display for him to see.

Before he kissed me like he never had before, he proclaimed with utter joy, happiness, and love,



“God is good.”