“I owe her everything and I love her and I tell her these days, although every time I say it, it gets a little diluted. I think you run out of I love yous.”

“I think you run out of 'I love yous”

“I brush her hair out of her eyes and run my finger along the edge of her face. "I love you, Lake.""Say it again," she says.I kiss her forehead and repeat what I said. "I love you, Lake.""One more time.""I." I kiss her lips. "And love." I kiss them again. "And you.""I love you, too.”

“What?" she asks, but I don't answer. Instead I kiss her, one time, and try to tell her in that single gesture everything that she'll forget as soon as she turns away. I tell her I love her. I tell her I'll miss her. And then I let her go.”

“I pulled her to me under the covers, resting her head under my chin. I kissed her head lightly and whispered words of love to her. From now on, I’d tell her how much I loved her every day.”

“Constantly thinking gets quite tiresome.'Tell me ‘bout it,’ she says, although I doubt her sincerity.”