“How do I even begin to describe these feelings?” he said. His mind raced as he tried to think of words that came anywhere close to what he felt.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I understand your feelings. They’re the same ones I have.”
“But people experience feelings in different ways. There is no telling that your experience is the same as mine.”
“Maybe not, but the end result is the same.”
“That’s adorably sweet,” he said. In his head, he had an image. It was him and her and nothing else. Just the two of them and empty space. And they held each other and smiled, because nothing else was necessary.
But that was too dramatic. Perhaps too dark. Maybe even far too simple. How could he explain this to her? The words simply escaped him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Obviously, she’d seen the look on his face – the one he got when he was deep in thought. Unfortunately, it looked strangely as though he was upset when he unwittingly acquired this expression.
“Nothing. Just thinking.”
“About how to explain my feelings.”
“You really don’t have to. I understand.”
“I know, but I want to. I may even feel like I need to explain them to you, but I just don’t know how.”
She smiled and reached her hand out for his. The look on his face relaxed, warmed. He locked his fingers in between hers, carefully paying attention to the feeling of her fingers as they meshed with his.
She was there in a field, standing atop the only hill within visible distance. The air was crisp, and the grass was the greenest green, though pockmarked with bright yellow dandelions. He was at the foot of the hill, barefoot, standing atop the perfect grass. He could feel every blade beneath his feet. She looked down at him as he began to make his way up the hill.
A field? No, that was too cliché. Why were the feelings manifesting like this?
“You have that look on your face again,” she said.
“It’s okay,” she said, squeezing his fingers as they continued walking down the sidewalk.
As she touched him, as he took in the sense of her warm skin, the words suddenly came to him. He could never verbally paint the pictures in his head, but the feeling of her touch reminded him that the senses were linked to emotions.
“I’ve got it!” he said.
“You know how to say it now?”
“Yes, I think I know how to explain.”
Her lips raised at the ends to form a smile that seemed too caring for him to deserve. “Tell me how you feel.”
“It’s the scent of cherry blossoms and freshly brewed coffee; the feeling of silk against skin, of an ice cube on your tongue on a hot summer day. It’s the sight of shooting stars, of lightning that flashes across a deep purple sky. It’s the sound of the wind blowing through your hair and of waves gently lapping at the shoreline; the taste of fresh apple pie followed by a cold glass of milk.”
She stopped walking and stared at him for at least 15 seconds before saying a word. He felt the intensity of her gaze and immediately knew what she was trying to convey. She’d understood what he meant, and now she was the one at a loss for words.
He smiled. “It’s the feeling of wanting to spend our forever together.”
She nodded, brought herself closer to him, stopping just for a moment. “I don’t know how you did that. I don’t even understand why I understand what you mean. But I do. And I love you.”
The kiss that followed made all of the things he’d said pale in comparison.