Sitting on the roof, gazing at a starless sky.
Even without touching, wave particles reacted in such resonance.
I said, “I love you, and you are beautiful."

I didn't believe him.

I said, “Beautiful words aren’t true, and true people aren’t beautiful.
Nothing about reality is beautiful, and that’s why I admire your ability to see things for what they’re not.”

There was nothing but the reassuring buzz of our force fields.

“I’m not beautiful, and you don’t love me.”

The buzzing stopped.
I was afraid of the empty space, so I tried filling it with words.
I repeated,
“I love you, and you are beautiful.
I love you, and you are beautiful.
Please, I love you, and you are beautiful.”

“Everything real takes up space, like matter.
All matter cannot be without energy, and your words don’t take up much space.”

I sat there, trying to vacuum the air through deep breaths.
I felt her eyes watching me, worried.
I prepared my “don’t worry, I’m fine” face in the small seconds that I turned to her.

“Do you hear that?”

Nothing.

“Listen, listen harder.”

The slow buzzing hum of the A/C.
“So what? It’s not the real thing. Maybe we can’t handle love,”

“Says who?”

My body drained of energy, refilling with hers.

We began choking at the exchange.
She laughed at my monstrous coughs.

“Well, that is one ugly way to say I love you, but I’ll take it.”

I thought,

“Oh, so this is what it feels like.”