To my wife
My love,
I have been writing this now for several years,
trying, and failing to capture the heart of the matter,
struggling ineloquently, and stepping away in frustration,
feeling the desperation of an unexpressed thought and returning yet again.
I hope it has not been in vain.

These are the things that are never said,
the foundation beneath the words we say each day,
the structure that exists beneath “I love you”,
the truth that makes those words so real.

I remember the night that we met,
The way my heart leapt within my chest at the sight of you,
And the surprise I felt at its doing so.
You were beautiful, of course, but what transpired went much deeper than that,
You were mysterious and exotic, but that was insufficient,
You were intelligent and charming and altogether lovely,
but these things in and of themselves did not and could not explain.
I loved you then and did not know you,
I know you now and love you still.

It is strange to look back and know that my love was far more than that feeling.
To see the choice beneath the moment,
the same choice made a million times since then.

These are the things that are never said,
the foundation beneath the words we say each day,
the structure that exists beneath “I love you”,
the truth that makes those words so real.

These are the things that are never said.
I say them now.