The pen rested against the curve of her palm, Jia chewing her bottom lip as she pondered over her words. How do I find the words to encompass what my entire heart is too small to feel the entirety of? 

The poets had all run their course, equating this tiny four-letter word to everything from the majesty of oceans and earthquakes, to the gentle drift of a petal against a sunlit cheek, the caress of a lover long yearned for.

A small mountain of crumpled paper rested by her elbow, frustration tearing out draft after draft, no turn of phrase, no metaphor, no symbolic allusion to tragic heroes or the Romantics of centuries ago were enough to put to words the stirrings in her chest since the previous night. 

When they'd both been too exhausted to utter a single word, but neither made a single move to hang up. When she'd fallen asleep mere minutes after his breathing levelled out in her earphones, sleep pulling her to itself more gently than it had in months; allowing her peace more easily than it ever had before. Once a dreaded foe, now friend. 

Her eyes fluttered closed, wont to abandoning the task she had so determinedly set upon. Her mind greeted her with a flash of memory: Leo's slowly spreading smile as he roved over the words on the page, the spilled ink and black smudges doing nothing to deter him. Leo, not giving a second's warning before he lunged and tackled her to the bed, pressing kisses all over her face through the intermingling of their laughter–hers shocked, his delighted. 

'More,' he'd begged. 'I love your words more than anything; I can't tell you how happy they make me.'

'I think I can tell,' she had replied with another breathless laugh. 

Jia opened her eyes, the pen already scratching before her sight fully adjusted to the honey-coloured light spilling over her desk. 

My love, last night I fell asleep to the sound of your breaths in my ears. With my eyes closed, it was almost as though you were with me, the only cruel marker of your absence the cold that embraced me from each side. It was the cruelest pleasure: having you so close as to hear the uninhibited words that slipped your tongue in the realm of unconsciousness, and yet so far that my bones ached for your presence. 

I would wake each time you did, too attuned to your breathing for this to have been the first time I heard you sleep. I would wake each time I heard the deep breaths giving way to near silence; wake to your inevitable ‘I love you’ and reply whilst still asleep, before I even treaded consciousness, so aware was my heart of you. I love you, the three completely incomplete words neither one of us could stop saying–not enough and somehow still encompassing all. Not enough, though, never enough.

You are the light of my life. The light making my eyes snap open, with my heart in my mouth and a grin splitting my cheeks. You are my happiness, the sole cause and purpose. My happiness, my joy, my light.

My love.

I am so completely in love with you: my entire heart is yours; it was made for you. I’ve not known peace like I did last night—falling asleep only after you did, and waking up to your quiet whispers. I’ve not ever known anything so sweet as this.