The words: I love you.

They said it once, really swiftly, as if in a rush; making sure you didn’t hear them – almost wanting you to hear them.

And then you grew. And learned. And they thought it was necessary so they said it again. Each word gently. Slowly. Almost like a whisper. And you almost heard them but convinced yourself it was the wind.

When you could make your own coffee, solve your own problems, go through a long day and smile anyway. When you were satisfied with whom you were, when you became the person you wanted to be; they said it to you – clearly and whole heartily this time. Each letter pronounced well, each word defined. And you understood them.  Well. But you blamed them for being too straight forward.

Whiles later, at this moment, they are screaming it in your face and you’re too old to hear them out.

Unclog your ears.

It’s almost too late.

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