He is coming, and I am here.

It comes out so quietly that I have to ask her to repeat it: “It’s just that I thought maybe you were married to me.

I wanted someone to love who would stay: stay and be there, always.

I won't ever leave you, even though you're always leaving me.

There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.

…she smiles in an exhausted but warm sort of way, as though she is a brilliant sun in some other galaxy

I feel that I an everything to her.