Sometimes "I love you" loses it's meaning. Often it's overused. We pop open a can of Pepsi, look at the tin can and say, "I love you" dramatically. We toss around "I love you" with a romantic interest we've only known for three days. We say "I love you" for a show and to look good. We say it when we often don't mean it.
But today, my hands shake and tears form under my eyes as I read the simple words, "I love you" for the hundredth time. "You are beautiful" are the next words. And "when you look at me, my heart beats" follows that.
My heart overflows with joy at the genuineness of such words. They weren't for show, they aren't overused. Someone wrote them and meant them.
My warm tears fall, staining the page once again. Its wear and tare is showing by now. The page is crinkled and dirty, but I still pull it out to read it again and again. It never losses its meaning and never becomes dry. Each time I read it it makes me just as happy as it did the first time - if not more so!
I hold that letter to my chest and treasure it. I'll never let it go. Never. I hide it in my heart, so when I'm not reading it - I can at least remember what it says.
It's a wonder how these moments of joy can be so quickly turned to sadness. Even after being so full of love - I quickly forget what the words on that precious page said. They slip from my mind. I become discouraged and wonder why I feel so alone.
But I'm lucky. My lover is patient. He finds so special ways to remind me to read His letter again. He gives me hugs or sings a song or randomly pops in my mind. Then the words come flooding back to me. I run into my room and pull that letter out...
I read, "I love you, beloved. I will never leave you or forsake you."
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