a love language, cont.

if you made it to this part of the story, you know how i feel.

you know how i've felt since i saw your face five inches away from mine at nine in the morning when we were eight.

at thirteen i said nothing. only my heart remembered.

it beat in time with my teenage hope.

when the holiday card came i told my stepmom my secret.

"i've been in love with jonah lukin since i was eight years old."

she thought i was kidding.

i could never joke about that.

i want to tell you what i remember.

1. i was afraid to talk to anyone. stayed quiet.
2. the second day it rained. we sat under a tent. you sat with your brother and then you sat with me.
3. day three we ate breakfast on a red diner bench and that afternoon we said goodbye. i didn't want to say goodbye.

i remember one other thing, too.

not only do i remember the sound of your voice, at eight and at thirteen, but i remember the way your mouth moved when you spoke.

it's like a program my brain can run whenever it misses you.

when i heard that you were a coder, i wanted to share a piece of my code with you. so i made this.

for seventeen years since the first time i knew i loved someone.

for twenty-four years that we've been on this planet together.

i want you to know the language i code in.

with some effort i'm sure i could understand yours, too.

i'm sorry it's taken me so long to find you again.

oh. and seventeen years ago we had breakfast. maybe this time we can try dinner instead.