how can someone love you as much as i do

 "And what do you think you're gonna do Grace? Once it's all over."

I ask her dead in the eye under the stars that hung like ropes of destiny above her head. The cool night breeze shiver my spine at the thought mixed with the possibility of her getting hurt in the process she has cold plunged into herself. How can I ever explain her my growing and growling anxiety of her which keeps me on a chokehold now and then, waking me up from nightmares I'd rather die than see. How can I ever explain my love for her.

And as we stand close beside the phone booth in an empty lane just lit by a single street lamp. There might be someone still lurking in the shadows, trying to find a key to her end. I will stay strong like a wind protecting her embrace. I know I will always be here for her as she moves through the shadows, working for the underworld in disguise. Her family's dead and her thirst for revenge, taking down the whole city in a few months. I have to be there to remind her of her.

"I guess....I'll just take a trip to Nebraska. Maybe attend a concert or two." She winks. Her voice seems soft and warm to my heart as we stay close, huddled in our hoodies. I chuckle at her sudden humor and habit of throwing the very nonchalant lines in between a conversation. One of many things I home about her.

"I'll stay there Grace. I'll stay wherever you are, whenever you need me. Just know I'll always be there." And I hug her as she passes a bread smile. She rubs my back gently and we stay like this as the seconds pass to something longer than time. I close my eyes. A soft tear rolls down but I wipe it subtly and quickly away. Her soft pats on my back tells me she knows that I will.

Finally we part. She walks back the other way, occasionally looking behind to wave, as if maybe just the last time or the last glance before she hits the spot. I smile as I watch her go. I cannot know what will reap out of us, what will be our future once she uncovers it all and wins her battles.

Once she gets tired of running not because she cannot but because there will be something pricking at her back, like the way she casually and longingly waves me a goodbye. And when she pulls off the cover, feeling like a victory above all, feeling like finally the thing which she has been hurting her will hurt her no more, soon she'll see my face and know that numb is just another word for home. I cannot know our future, I cannot know our end, but I know that we'll be ruined once she discovers my name in the game as the one.