Yuna? Are you awake?
I guess you're not. I guess… I'm kind of glad. I'm not sure if I could say this to you face to face.
Well, here goes. I love you.
I feel kind of stupid now. Spira didn't implode, Yevon didn't do the hula, nothing actually changed. All that's different is that I said it.
I'm not used to loving people, you know. I loved my mother, of course, and I guess I had some pretty good friends. But most of the time I was surrounded by adoring fans and I guess I liked the attention.
You've got your fans, too. Everyone in Spira loves you. Sometimes I think they shouldn't, because they just want you to save them. Fame was pretty fickle back in Zanarkand, but it's even worse here – at least when I missed a goal I didn't get thrown into fiend-infested dungeons to die.
When did I start playing with your hair? I guess I was lost in thought. There's something that would make the Abes laugh. Tidus zoning out because he's thinking about the girl he loves. I guess I won't be mentioning it to them.
Not that I'm ashamed of loving you. You know that, right? It feels good saying it out loud. I'm glad you're asleep though.
You're awake… sorry. I wasn't trying to act sappy. I do love you though.
Yeah, sorry. Sappy again, right?
Did you ever realise how cute you are when you giggle? Nope, thought not. It's true though.
Yuna? You're giggling again.
You know, if Auron wasn't watching I'd kiss you right now.
Inspired by the poem How do I love thee, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. As far as I know it's not under copyright because it's a long time since it was written.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death