1 July 2012
Even though my chest is pounding and I can feel the blood rushing to my head. So I say them. Those three little words that have been in my mind ever since the day I met you. Your jaw drops open and your eyes nearly pop out of your head. I hang my head, feeling my face get hot and my palms get sweaty as I stare at the cold green marble floor. Then I hear your reply. And I raise my head slowly to see if I heard right. Sure enough, your cheeks are as red, if not redder than mine. You come closer, maneuvering your wheelchair, tears in your eyes. I bend down and gently press my lips to your forehead, still dazed by your unexpected reply. We’re lost in our own little world, unaware of the servants and your parents staring at us from different viewpoints. As I pull you closer, memorizing the warmth of your body, I hear you vow never to say those five words again. Now all we can do is pray for a miracle.
Reveille • Opuss № I