The dead word...
A word I will never say outloud yet felt it for you for the longest time.
I never said it to her, god, I'm glad I didn't.
I think part of that meaning died when she did, it was buried with her I think I'm getting the word confused with part of my happiness...
She would have wanted me to be happy.
You make me happy.
The kind of happy I haven't felt since she died. The other day while I waited for my mother I thought about the ramp we used to have for my grandmother to use and how I stared up at the sky and traced the clouds while laying on it.
I never felt happier.
When I thought about you after that daydream I felt that rush of happiness again....
The dead word that killed part of me was love.
I think I love you though, no, I know I love you.
Suddenly it doesn't seem quite dead anymore.