Words

I swirled the words around in my head, getting used to the weight of them. I rolled them over my tongue, feeling them crowd at the tip and roll back to choke me. I whispered them into the silence of an empty room, fearing the bittersweet taste.
 
They sounded hollow and false, in that empty room, making a mockery of the tenderness I feel in them.
 
They sounded perfect on your lips, pouring out in a silence only I could hear.  They’re in every breath that trickles down my neck as you breathe happiness, in every hair you brush away from my face. I hear them every time you kiss me, every time you look at me, every time you laugh with me.
 
The bittersweet taste in that empty room is not what I want you to hear, so I’ll add more words and fill in the gaps and sometimes even sputter nonsense, because you know what I’m trying to say and how impossible it is for me to voice it without being certain.
 
I love everything about you.