Love was steady and flowed, like water in a stream; you could trace its origins, find out the waterfalls, the jumps, and crevices, but even within that you never could be really sure. It make seem to begin somewhere and really begin somewhere else. It was rarely still and hardly ever steady, but it was there, and it was moving in a slow, languid pace that left you eager for another drink, another taste.
He doesn't think of it like falling out of love nor does he compare it to a poet's sonnet nor to his parents' marriage. It is water to him, a chance to grow, but also, a chance to follow that path and do your best to get beyond the bumps and the stones along the way. It's silent as he tries to find the words for things that can't be voiced beyond metaphor, beyond reality beyond that metaphor, beyond the motion in his chest. You can love without being able to explain; just words wouldn't come.
'I love you like water.' And, it ends, but water never shall just up and vanish. It has a path, it has a purpose, but how do you convey what water is? You need it to survive from every little molecule that builds it up, and to top it all off, you're mostly water. The planet's full of it, and yet how do you define that H2O is more than just a substance that you can 'harvest' and enjoy, that refreshes you.
Would she see need in those words? He doesn't feel incomplete without her, but he feels that creeping feeling of becoming better through her. No one is walking around as half a person, no matter what they seem to be missing, without what most find to keep them alive, others still love. You are still whole despite the things that you can't do and the times when you don't feel like trying or getting up out of a hole. He's still a hundred percent him, with her a hundred percent her, but she completes something within him or seems to that he can't define.
Will she see refreshment in those words? A need to be cool, to feel relief from the everyday pains and the major tragedies that tie you in a loop. He doesn't want to bind her to just reaching out and comforting him, because love is so much more than that or so it has to be.
How do you even begin to describe the feelings bursting inside his chest that are sometimes just not there? Love is so much more than a feeling, and it's in every decision he makes around her, even when the words get bunched up and just don't come out right. He isn't perfect by any means, and he's sure that he hurt her along the way, but he doesn't know just what else to say beyond "I'm sorry," and "We'll figure this out." Life can be what's marked as a simple challenge of growth, but it always seems like so much more than that.
The words don't fall onto paper, ink doesn't stain the page, but he wants to tell her somehow. 'I love you like water' is all that he has, but he doubts that it will ever be enough to explain to her just what he means. It's an afterthought to stop on the way and buy heart shaped chocolates for her, another pause to consider flowers. What could he offer the girl that gives him the world just by talking to him or breathing or just plain existing? Her friendship means the world, but how do you tell a girl that you've begun to fall head over heels with her, and it began last April. She laughed at a joke of his, a breathless, almost shy laugh and smiled at him, and that's when he'd known that something shifted in his world.
He'd never had the words for this, and yet he'd known that that wasn't the first time that he'd made her laugh, but it felt significant, like a small spark beginning a forest fire. Some smiles and some sounds embed in your memory so well that you doubt that you could ever forget them. What words would come to mind to explain how his whole world felt like it had a galaxy now, ever expanding, and new, and absolutely beautiful? Words went only as far as metaphors and similes stretched on. It doesn't feel near enough to hold chocolates in his hand and an only partially written letter; it's not quite a card though it's a hundred percent homemade. Adrien feels like he's loved her forever.
How can a bee sing a love poem to a flower? It can't ever express words beyond the buzzing, and yet that buzzing is never enough for how it feels. Buzzing can't sound beyond what it normally means, and yet the bee tries. He shudders to compare himself to a bee, because that brings to mind Queen Bee, which he'd never try to buzz words for, though she made a good friend and was mostly dependable now. A bee can only buzz its feelings to the flower and hope to be heard.
People are only more confusing as they can walk away unlike the flower, and they have voices to scream and shout at you or to question your motives, your feelings, your heart. If a flower liked a bee, its words were heard even less. It doesn't have lungs or wings, and it can't really see in the way we can, though it's very likely aware of the bee and of the sun and of other flowers. It has to be.
To tell her how I feel is beyond words, beyond any one action, and yet this day makes me doubt that she feel or see it like she would any other time. Perhaps these words were better fit for April when he first starting falling for her, for shy smiles, and cute laughs and just the friendship that began to take a dive off the deep end and really change everything. Words were never enough, but words were just the beginning to something a bit braver, a bit newer, and something that hopefully left their hearts racing and minds willing to just try.
Love is never as simple as an emotion, never as complex as the world's toughest math problems, but yet it is love. Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is self donative. And, he feels just that beginning, that flicker of what love could be in his chest, even though the feeling won't always last in the same way, hopefully he'd be brave enough to always love her, to be the kind of boyfriend that tried to figure out if she needed a foot massage or a hug or his hand in hers or whatever she needed, truly needed. Somethings weren't to be given away right away, but somethings strengthen the gift of love. He could hug her when she was sad, tell a pun that hopefully made her laugh, visit her when she feels lonely, and hopefully just be the kind of boyfriend, the kind of support that she needed. It didn't mean that he didn't dream of a kiss, but a kiss can't just melt sadness away or relieve loneliness.
Seeing her in class, hair done up like it usually was and sporting pink. Words couldn't quite come to him or find him, but despite every little nervous tingle in his system, he refused to just give up. There had been too much giving up and chickening out, and that would not be what he'd say about today. He refused it. They were friends; she could take the words and hopefully see the softness of his smile and the love in his heart.
"Hey, Marinette." It stumbled out, unbound by anything that was supposed to hold it back, "I mean, good morning."
And her smile was radiant, "Good morning, Adrien." Just the right kind of tenderness to remind him that yes, his heart was still beating.
"I," He tried not to sigh as the words failed to come right away, "I wanted to tell you something." It was easier to say something than the words on the page, but he might as well try.
"What is it?" Her smile never faded despite his nerves, and that was all the confidence boost that he needed.
"I love you like water." Toppled out before he thought better of the words despite their meaning, "I've liked you as more than friends since April. Do you feel the same?"
She blinked in confusion; blue eyes shutting and opening a bit quicker than he expected, "I've liked you for forever." The words slipped from her lips as a blush slowly took hold over her cheeks and reminded him of just how a little bit of color looked so beautiful too. "I, I mean that I've liked you for a while. Longer than April." Came next, and suddenly he was half positive that his heart collapsed in his chest and sprung back up again.
"O-Oh." Adrien's face turned its own shade of pink as he nervously handed her the chocolates and the partially written card, "I-I'm glad. I mean, wow." He was dazed, longer than April? Somehow those words made it even more incredible, not only did she like him back, but she'd been harboring these feelings for even longer. Hope spilled of of his chest, and he wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. Should he hug her? Was that too forward? "Will you go out with me?" Came out instead of an offer for a hug, and he just hoped that that wasn't too forward.
"Yes." She bit back a laugh, and suddenly, Adrien felt at home as if this was just another day with his classmate turned friend turned girlfriend, and the nerves just finally melted away. They'd be okay as long as they both tried despite everything that could stand in their way; love sometimes built a kind of strength that you refused to let go of, even when you were just beginning to fall in love.