The little voice in the back of your head stops talking and you realize how lost you are without it.
I love you.
What is this?
Is this apathy? Truly just not...
Caring?
There's that feeling of...
A lack of a feeling?
Wait, what?
Did you say something?
Oh. Must've been my imagination.
But it's not there
Here.
Everywhere.
Goodness. Light. Virginity. Whatever.
Dark. Home, warm. Soft, gentle, loving.
A familiar little sense runs through me.
I tilt my head back like feeling the rain. Home.
I'm home.
I turn to see the one who spoke. And yes, you spoke, aloud or not.
I love you.
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