Last night Beau and I were laying in her bed together. We shared a pillow, gazing at each other, our foreheads practically touching. I brushed the hair back from her face with my fingers.

“It’s funny about LOVE,” she said, sleepily.

“What do you mean?” I asked, always intrigued by her mind’s inner workings.

“It’s just…it is such a small word for something SO BIG.

It feels like LOVE deserves a bigger word.”


As usual, she’s right.

That one little word is…everything.

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