• I spill myself over the keyboard, but can I trust the type to convey my feeling of want? Twisting my fingers, waiting impatiently as I search my vocabulary for the words to tell you how I feel. I search every crevice, every fiber of my being for the word of such importance. I know that in the depths of my mind I must resort to that cliché term, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Waiting, tapping the keys to the tune of my heartbeat, I develop a maniacal being within myself, searching for the word. I feel it with every ounce of my blood, every beat of my heart. The maniac tears through memories and feelings, feelings of heartbreak, want, dream, and ecstasy. Tearing through memories of the first time my eyes met yours, and fireworks went off in my head. How when I look in your eyes a ballad plays, and waterfall tears rain down on the inside. I am not obsessed, but how can I tell you the truth? What word conveys it just as I feel it? The cliché term, the one I dare not type out with my twisted fingers of insanity, is it really the only way to express it? As minutes pass looking at the blank screen in my mind, I finally decide to resort to that word, with such rudimentary vocabulary, that yet holds the secrets to all the feeling in the world; the heartbreak, the want, the dream and ecstasy. I take a breath as my carpal-tunnel pained wrists tap out those four faded keys. I shake my head in shame, yet on the inside I feel a small thrill that grows into a fire of emotion. Adrenaline rushes through me as I scream it out with tears in my eyes, breathing heavily, heart pounding as all of my emotion wells up in my head.

    I love you!