Not A Word

When I was a kid, my brother always made sure I walked on the inside of the sidewalk, away from the road.
My grandma cried when she dropped me off on my first day of preschool, and still cries when I call her.
My best friend defends me before someone even gets the chance to insult me, and calls me about even the smallest things, from 6 hours away.

What I’m trying to say is:
There is more than one way to say “I love you.”

Without uttering a word, it can be said so loudly.



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