never in a million years did jennie ever fathom the thought that someone could resonate the deepest longings of the heart; to connect, to be vulnerable, to-

"i never thought it could be like this." jennie tilted her face upward.

"like what?" i responded, confused albeit serene.

"you know when you’re driving, and it's raining. everything is a daze and you wonder when will it end. and then you come across a tunnel and it's calm and quiet for a while? you were that tunnel."

i'm a multilingual not good with words. and i never knew falling in love needed so many. jennie is my reservoir. she's metaphors and onomatopoeias; the walking kind, the talking kind. she's full of beautiful words yet not a single one can epitomize her entity.

like the way she crafts her hair. or how she smells in the morning. the sudden thump thump in my chest when she utters my name, or when she holds me close. there are no words.

“what’s your least favorite word?” she leaned in closer. jennie has always been like this— with child-like inquiries.

“moist.” i replied, half-laughing, “what’s yours?”

"almost" she sounded so certain. her eyes were avoiding mine as if the utterance of the word pierced her insides.

—-

"in order to keep your balance, you have to keep moving", i whispered to her. i cannot believe this 23-year-old girl doesn't know how to ride a bike. who doesn't know how to ride a two-wheel vehicle?

"i know what you’re thinking,” jennie looked at me, one eyebrow raised. "i'm a stereotyped sheltered kid."

honey, you are. that's what i love about you. you make me feel useful; like you needed me, but, you know what, i needed you more.

"look. you are a thrill-seeker, you’re adventurous. a wandering artist”, she continued.

"fancy words to describe my destination-less living" i appealed.

"you are. and that was the reason why you missed your flight the first time