Love is an idea. Nothing more. Nothing less. If you lose the idea, if you somehow forget it, the person you loved becomes a stranger. Love lives in the memory. It can be forgotten. But it ca...
"Kiah, don't worry," he told her,"I'll call you every night. I'll come home as much as I can. Whatever it takes," he paused, "Whatever it takes to keep you and me alive."
"Hey Lover Boy!" Joe called from the tour bus door, "We gotta hit the road!"
He kissed her again, this time fully on the lips, placing one hand on her hip and the other softly on her cheek.
"Goodbye, Patrick," she said through tears as he raced towards the bus, "Good luck!"
The bus rolled forward, leaving her all alone on that cold Chicago sidewalk.
He flung open the window, snowflakes pouring into the bus.
"I love you!" he called into the frosty winter air.
She turned her head down, staring at her feet as through the snow, ignoring his calls.
His heart sank as he watched her walk away, her head hung down sadly, as though she hadn't heard him at all.
As though she hadn't heard those three little words that meant so much, the words he had never been able to bring himself to say.
"Kiah," he whispered,"I love you."