I know what I've said. I know that I said that I only find solace in words. I know that I said that sometimes words are not enough. I have said many things. I have been known to be wrong.
I am here, now, to say that sometimes there is so much feeling that trying to encapsulate them in words is like putting all the light of the moon into a box and expecting the room to be dark when you close the lid. It can't be done.
I know that I told you to save the words because words are powerful and make things real. I know that I asked you to wait, and that we both separately conspired for the perfect moment to allow the words to escape our lips. I am here, now, to say that I am mooningly happy that you did not save the words and that the perfect time was not what or when we were expecting, but it was perfect nonetheless. Just as I believe we were not expecting what we have found in each other, through the other, and in ourselves. Isn't this delicious?
You were right when you said this , one hour is just not enough time.
I think my words have found some company, and I couldn't be happier.