I didn't recognize the words when they came out of my mouth; full of quiet anger, such ire. "I don't try to dissect every fucking thing that's important to you." I'd sworn. I hadn't noticed until after, and I felt that it was too much; but it was real, and I couldn't take it back. We sat in silence, and I knew she must be upset with me. I didn't know what to say. I wouldn't go back on my need. I loved her, which was evident; she was my dearest friend, but I needed her to do this for me. Not because she understood why, but because I asked. Because I said it was important. I had my reasons, but they were mine to know and mine to understand; I just needed her to understand that going meant something to me.
"I'll go," she whispered. It had seemed like an eternity in silence, before she broke it with those two words. "What?" I said, inciting her to repeat herself. "I'll go." I knew she wasn't happy, but I felt pleasure wash over me. Not because I'd gotten my way, but because I knew she really must care.
I make all of these petty sacrifices; because to me, that is love. Love is learning to speak another language; the personal language of an individual. And sometimes you won't be able to comprehend, you won't know the right words; but you try your best to fill in the gaps. And I think that's the most important part of loving anyone: parents, friends, lovers, siblings, pets. It's the little ways you try to connect, to communicate, even when you can't understand.
(P.S. Thank you)
