I'm still not used to it. I think, maybe, one day it'll stop seeming profound. Fade in with all the other words spoken, 'til I hardly notice them from the rest. I'll be sorta disappointed when that day comes, I think. If it does. If this lasts long enough. God, I really hope that it does.

There's a warm, clinching weight in my chest, flushing out over my skin, and I don't know how long it is that I'm stunned into silence. Not long, I guess, 'cause almost right on the tails of it, I'm breathing out an, "I love you," of my own. Even the crashing water seems quiet and distant.