And in that moment, I realized that I’d wanted to say it—wanted her to hear it from my lips. Realized that if she died, I would never again get to look into those blue eyes and utter those two syllables that have been a constant in my mind. So I said her name, again and again. I finally let myself do it. Let that last piece of attachment to her lock into place. Just saying her name felt intimate, personal, somehow. And now I forever want her name on my lips and rolling off my tongue until I’m drunk on the taste and sound of it.
oh i love it here
