Some things don't need to be said. I remember when you pulled me beneath the duvet, whispering conspiratorially, educating me in ways I'd never imagined. We speak loudest with our bodies, you said; with those lingering looks and half-hidden smirks, louder than words ever could.
Over the years, we barely spoke; never have two people been more in love. A tilt of your head as I come in for breakfast; you've got grease down your t-shirt. Raise my left shoulder, crinkled eyes, wan smile; what, again? Seems I'll never learn. Back in a minute, love.
With all those years hardly speaking, you'd think I might've saved up my words for something important, but I don't think either of us ever imagined this day. Certainly not so soon, anyway.
There's nothing more to say. I love you, darling; the rest you've always known.
Some things don't need to be said.