“So much of the language of love was like that: you devoured someone with your eyes, you drank in the sight of him, you swallowed him whole. Love was sustenance, broken down and beating through your bloodstream.”
Nineteen Minutes Jodi Pocoult
And he sustains me, he keeps me alive, he keeps me sane.
An unusually worded text, a phone call a minute later, a hello that sounded a little too weary, a voice that soothes and heals and rights all the wrongs, a breaking down of walls and a shedding of armor and a laying down of swords.. a conversation that bled into the black of the night and into the dark of the dawn, a good night, a sweet dream, a promise; if I ever forget how much I need you, let me remember this night, when I felt so alone and lost, you were there.
.. a whispered thank you.