I wrote those three words on a scrap of paper, folded it twice, and put it in my pocket. Not because I needed to remember — God knows I couldn’t forget — but because I needed to see it outside my own head.
You love Cece.
On paper, it looks simpler. Less scary. The ink doesn’t tremble. The letters don’t second-guess themselves. You. That’s me. No hiding. Love. That’s the hard part — not the feeling, but the saying of it. Cece. Her name like a small, warm bell. you love cece