I love you. Yes, I know. Your eyes have that dubious look in them right now, telling me that we’ve discussed this before. Well, guess what: I love you. I wasn’t telling the truth, and I don’t think you were, either. Not only that, but I don’t think we ever really talked about it. You only said that you wanted our relationship to be clear. It’s clear as glass to me, you just didn’t say what it should clearly be.
I love you, I love you, I love you…and when I see you next, I’m going to throw my arms around you and cry. As long as I don’t ever have to let you go again, I will be alright, I think. I can see it in your eyes that you love me. I saw it every day for those precious last two weeks I was with you. Why the hell else would I have sat down there with you until the wee hours doing homework and talking like a total spaz? I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m almost desperately crying.
Yet, you are somehow not the center of my life. I won’t die without you, although if someone else came along I just might drown for a while.
You aren’t afraid of me, though, which gives me hope. I can see your fearlessness when you look at me, I can count to forever and you don’t break eye contact. You’re one of the few people who actually cares about what I think and presses me for answers. I almost screamed at you when you told me that you didn’t want there to be any misconceptions. You are either a better liar than I am or I am much less observant than I have been for my whole life. I see these things coming, and I am almost always right. I can count on one hand the times that I have been wrong (not to brag, just being honest). I’m wanting to tell you more than I’ve wanted to say anything before. I’ll curb it, though, since you’ve almost asked me to. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m shouting it in my soul.