I’ll marry you tonight, but I won’t wear a ring.


It’s not what you think. It’s not how you’re thinking of it at all.


I just don’t want us to be a question that can be answered. I can’t stand the thought of us that way, dry and dead in some dictionary of love. I can’t see us defined so.


Put both of your hands here, across where your picture of my heart is, hold them there and you’ll have the only part of the puzzle that matters. You can take that piece of me and carry it in the palm of your hand, where it will live in a language only we know.

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