Andrew W.

“I always refrained from speaking words of affection. Ever since, I was a child, I used to call my parents by their first names and never quite knew what to respond when they used to bathe me with their I love yous. I used to avoid words of love at any cost. Out of tremendous fear and out of the obligation of reciprocity, I chose my words very carefully. But these words sometimes betrayed me. They bathed in my eyes and in my gaze that caressed the wind, even in those fleeting moments when I used to look away into the horizon and especially in those moments where I did.

I refrained from engaging. I refrained from reciprocating. I refrained from running towards. I refrained from opening my arms wide open. I refrained from screaming "Stay here." Instead, I fled. I dwelled in silence. I escaped. I stared into the void. I stared within. And I ran inwards.

But when my alphabet stumbled upon your name, the lump in my throat dissipated. The weight that lays heavily on my chest vanished. You see, there are millions of children in my heart that scream: I love you. There is a marching band in my heart that chants your name. You'll never hear them but they do. And I laugh at the madness I have become.”
― Malak El Halabi