You loved her at sixteen.

Defiant but fragile in her own ways;

Hungry for an uncertain future;

Awkwardly growing up even when she felt like she was regressing.

You loved her at twenty.

With wavering confidence that often held her down;

Simultaneously terrified of and impatient for what was to come of you and her;

Full of hope and yearning for a boy 700 miles away.

You will love her at thirty, fifty, seventy years old.

A romance that’s more than an initial spark but a indistinguishable flame itself;

Two hearts who always find their way back to each other;

Love that is permanent.

And she loves you just the same.


I Get To Love You – Ruelle


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