Being with you makes me melt back into a former version of myself, a confused little kid who can’t understand what you’re saying, but they are such beautiful words, an I watch your lips form them, and I listen, and it sounds like music to me, even if you are just talking about the weather, I don’t care, I’m still hopelessly, pathetically, drowning in the sound of the words and the way your lips move, and I’m hearing syllables, vowels and consonants, not words really, just sounds, but there is still communication there, deeper than words, words can’t express it, or maybe they can, because there are 3 words on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t dare say them, not again, because if I do you’ll stop talking and give me a sad, confused face, maybe you’ll cry again, like last time, I don’t want that, I want you to be happy like you are, smiling, speaking softly, but breathlessly, excited, and I cue into a few words, “Mexico, Costa Rica,” and I know you’re planning to explore the world without me, but that’s okay because it will make you happy, and that’s all I want.