He; she

March 21, 2013
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I hug him tight. "I love you more than anything." My lips meet his. I glance at him, fleetingly, and pull away. "More than air." I can feel his hands brush my waist and pull me close. "Gl--."
He smiles, kissing me again as he silences me, and I see that wonderful smile that he had always worn, even when it seemed hopeless.
For me, he smiles.
For once I see how fragile she is, yet how strong. How she pulls away from the deaths of so many of our friends, she's so strong. But on the inside her heart is breaking.
My fingers touch her face, and catch the tears, and kiss her and comfort her and hold her above my own well being, above the whole world's.
Because she is everything to me.
Because she is night and day, no-- She is the snow and the lighting, in my world.
Because she is... Mine? No, never. I could never posses her. She is... A feeling. When your heartbeat quickens and your breathing hurts, and you long for someone who is everything, everything, in that moment.
She is love.
And as I hold her I whisper the truth. "I love you."

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