Prompt from Inspiration Monday. Go check it out to read more stories and find more prompts.
I look at her sitting across the table, making jokes. She’s telling another story about college. I’ve already heard it but that doesn’t matter, I’m still a good audience.
My chest. It hurts. Too small. No room. My heart. Swells.
I love her, I think to myself. Then I remind myself of the times we’ve tried to be together. I remind myself of the times she’s left me broken, crying, and alone.
But. I love her. Forever.
She reaches across the table and rests her hand on top of mine, smiles at me, and gently squeezes my fingers.
My heart grows. My chests accommodates. Joy. Love. I can feel them radiate from me.
Our fingers lace and I’m in, all the way in. Her hand and my hand. I love her.