When I was in grade school, I was taught of how to construct sentences using words. I remember what my teacher said, "A sentence is a group of words that presents a complete thought, while a phrase does not." I have mastered writing sentences as I grew up; it was easy. "The longer, the better," I would always tell myself. I went to high school and college, and I was taught of new things like tenses, subject-verb agreement, modifiers, and more.

And then, I met her. I think of us and I can't even begin to express how I feel through words. Long sentences turned into short ones. I think of phrases, my words disarranged. Everything, I've mastered in language except hers... Her smile is like an open-ended question. And her eyes, they remind me of question marks. She kisses me, and I am bursting with exclamation points inside.

Help me. If you could just be the subject and I, the predicate, we can make a complete thought. You can be the possessive form and I, the object.

She is my loss for words except for three... And those are, "I love you."

Let me be your period.
Your one last sentence.

Labels: Love, Relationships, Words