â€œI love you,â€ he says. It means so much when being held on my bed, head dangling away from where I should be looking, unable to move from the sudden shock of what ever happened tonight. Because being told, â€œI love you,â€ can mean something much differently than what weâ€™ve been taught. While being told, â€œI love you,â€ he will also, tell me that stars fell at the sight of every failure of mine, while we all falsely hoped Iâ€™d at least tap the tip of the ozone layer. They remember the time that I dreamed of the moon racing to me, joyously congratulating me on space endeavors only some dared to take. Nowadays, â€œI love you,â€ means asking why I drop into bed sheets every night, knowing all I had done that day was watch reruns of sitcoms until 1am. â€œI love you,â€ means asking why I fall into the gravel of this shrinking planet, replaying the hits and misses that flash onto my brainâ€™s screen just like Big Brotherâ€™s announcement that he is forever watching you too. â€œI love you,â€ means asking why trees only use their roots to plant me in one place. â€œI love you,â€ means asking every question but never standing back once to listen. â€œI love you,â€ also means telling me that disappointment is the only thing I had created for nine months. And hearing the three words, â€œI love you,â€ and everything in between only reassured me that I had stayed, and had been stuck stagnant stiff because of you.