Seagulls

How do you tell someone you love them?

No, I don't mean those three words. Too obvious, though we give them to each other freely and unselfconsciously. And yes, I could show you, and I do, every time we're in the same city at the same time and every chance I have in between. we're there for each other.

But how do I really tell you what I mean, what is in my heart, when I say those words and do those things? How do I explain that when I think of you (and you, and you, and you… all ten of you, each and every one) that my heart swells? That when I cross all that land and sea and finally see you with my own eyes and hug you with my own arms that I wonder if my heart might explode, that I might cry, or that I might simply cease to function, like an overloaded socket that suddenly shuts down? Or that I feel like I'm not a human person at all but a ball of energy, of appreciation, of tenderness, of joy? How do I explain that when I see you I am a glittering galaxy, the very best I will ever be? I can't explain this.

We came together because we loved each others’ words. We're that group that never shuts up, like some deranged flock of seagulls, arguing and pecking and playing and always sticking together. We love each other, and we love each others’ words, but when it comes to explaining my love for you ten, my dear friends, my family, my heart: words utterly fail me.