I never got the chance to say, a couple things, that's on my mind.

Several facts found my base of knowledge as I know them to be true. For example, to properly make use of the sharp eyes of a 50-millimeter lens, a well-lit environment depicts the most detail. I am certain that what goes up, must come down—more or less. All my profound learning seem to fail me concerning intimacy, however. I take the lead and step on your left foot and trip over my right. I go too fast leaving you behind, lost like I left us both in the dark. I don’t see women making these mistakes. I don’t see her fumbling over words, or anything else for that matter. She dances elegantly, with such apparent ease, it is love is not a foreign land to her. While I vigorously charge into love, she leaps and bounds, familiar with the terrain, wary of the cliffs, and innocent in the meadows.

I can’t begin to imagine what she knows, similar to how most cannot possibly number the stars in the sky. Many attempt to, and many cannot comprehend the vastness before them. I am ambitious, but it’s clear she knows the hubris of heroes. If I could ask her how, the simplicity in her answer alone would baffle me. She simply does, as rain falls, and steam rises. I hate generalizing. The love she knows is strong, as women simply feel and understand more. A well of warmth and compassion, tender feelings, reminiscent of home, and deep. Immeasurable depth, far past what my adolescent experience contains. But I am not overwhelmed. Her love is an invitation, provocative in nature like the wave of a red flag. I am brave and bold, but she sees through the bravado. The amount of mashed toes and missteps never touch the surface of an emotion that charged, energized, electric to her.