love letters

The words fall out of my mouth like heavy rain in summer, slightly uncomfortable, like an unexpected nuisance but still warm and soft in a way.

When they’re left unrequited I search for probable cause, I want to believe that we’re here in the same boat about to sink, but there’s unforgiving silence instead. I’m left alone with my love notes, trying to figure out what it is I meant. And I don’t know.

If these things made sense, it would be easier to follow my train of thought back to the woods I grew up in, where all I really intended to find was a small hand to hold. One that would always hold mine, and would run with me between old pine trees pretending to be the fox to my squirrel, studying the slight movements of wildlife as we made it our own little secret.

Things were easier then, we never questioned our motives, we were just there hiding under the branches as the other kids passed by, they’d never find us here. We held our breath until they were out of sight and I told you I brought another secret to share. You stared at me with wide eyes while I pulled my bag of chips out from the bushes and you were just as excited as I was to loudly reveal our location.