I could not be more at a loss for words if you'd learned the art of metamorphosis, your feat is as incredible.
I am at a loss for words because I'm not sure how a soul as pure as yours has survived this long in this world. You're not only soft hearted, you're tough enough to stay that way. That takes a kind of bravery that I'm still processing, hence the silence.
You stand there as if your feat is nothing, as if you didn't just walk a thousand miles to hold my hand, just in case I needed you. I did need you. I simply had no idea that I did. So, if I'm at a loss for words, I'm processing the enormity of what your heart and soul, of how lucky I am to have met you.
The strength of your soul, the way that you love, honey, I'm at a loss for words. That's rare. So rare.
The moment she realised she'd misinterpreted his actions, his words, his expressions for so many years... as if he'd been speaking a language she couldn't understand... that moment her words stopped was the moment her heart broke... yet it was a good breaking... the type that leads to healing and new ways onward; sometimes, the loss of words says more.
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