Intoxicated was how I felt and it was not just the alcohol.
I think it was the moonlight, how it reflected on his hair; falling softly over his coat, smelling of cigarettes and something faintly like soap.
He was carrying me on his back, taking me home. He has always been kind to me, I realize.
It was probably his way of taking the sting out of the stabbing pain he causes me.
"I love you."
"I know."
"I love you."
"Thank you."
"I love you."