I actually think I love you, but I never thought I could fall in love.
I don't know why I think I love you, no theories. I only have things that, together, might be called proof.
I care twice as much as your opinion than everyone else's. If I get just one text from you (even if I almost never do) it completely makes my day. You remember that one time when I was just so tired and sad and you just holding me for half a minute changed everything? That's how it is.
I don't ever feel like actually flirting with people, because I never find anyone I like anymore. It's not that you set the bar too high, it's more that you created a specifically shaped hole in my heart and the only person fitting into that hole is you.
It's not that I find you perfect, I see all your imperfections. It's just that I don't see anyone else who could mean half as much to me.
I know we said we'd keep it a secret to all our friends, and at first we said we'd just fool around whenever we felt like it. But with all our ups and downs, our break ups and our make ups, I don't think that's what we have.
I keep telling myself that if I were actually in love with you, I'd be jealous over you being with other people. I never get jealous. Did I tell you why? To get jealous, I must first convince myself I'm worthy of even having you.
I'm wondering if I should tell you, because being unhappily in love with someone you're in a sort of relationship with sucks. But I won't, because I think you want it just as casual as this, and telling you would put too much pressure on you.
That's why you make me hate myself. I can never be good enough for you.
If the feeling I had then were real, you would've been lying here next to me right now. You would’ve been sleeping on your belly and your black, wild hair – with a texture I would’ve recognized amongst a thousand others – would've been a beautiful contrast against the white background. The sunlight would’ve hit your bare back and shown the lines of muscles, playing beneath your skin as you changed your position in your sleep.
Carefully I would've placed my fingertips on your ribs and on the scar I happened to give you. I have almost forgotten what it looks like. You would’ve awake and make a sigh of delight, just like you did every morning when I scratched your back or your arms, or pulled my finger through your hair. You loved it. You would’ve opened your eyes and stare right through me with your gaze.
Those bright, green and almost unlikely beautiful eyes are one thing I’ll never forget. And you would’ve smile when you saw me – you always fired away an almost boyish smile which made my heart skip thirteen beats. Then you would’ve pulled me close to you, been giving me a kiss and say “good morning, beautiful” before you would’ve lay down on my chest and rip your arms around me.
And you shouldn’t have let me go.
I wasn't going to tell you happy birthday today. Partly cause I was angry about you not telling me happy birthday and also because I don’t want you to think I still care. But me being the pushover that I am called you at 11:52 PM my time. Which is 12:52 AM your time.
I'm laying down in my dorm room, listening to the phone ring and after the 4th ring you finally pick up. And you don't say anything for a couple seconds, and I tentatively say hello. There's no answer for awhile and then you softly say my name. Just like you used too.
Then I apologize for calling late, and I told you that it’s still May 6th my time so it’s still your birthday. And you giggled and said thanks. And then I ask about prom, and the pictures you posted on facebook flash through my mind, reminding me of how beautiful you are. And how grown up you looked, and how I would have killed to dance with you like we used to in your room. You say it was fun and something about how prom decorations turned out really well.
We’re both silent for a bit, and then I tell you I’m about to go and that we can catch up later. And you say something, you tell me, “thanks for everything.” And I say that I haven’t done anything and that you should go back to sleep. "But happy birthday " I say, " I hope you had an amazing day." We say goodnight.
But you don’t hang up, you just stop talking. And I can hear you breathing and I stay on the line and think about how to this very day you still make me hang up because you hate doing it. As I’m listening to you sleep like I used to, all the memories come rushing back and it hits me in the face. And my heart hurts because I still love you.
And so I tell you that, in the softest of whispers while you sleep. And I hang up.
I'm laying down in my dorm room, listening to the phone ring and after the 4th ring you finally pick up. And you don't say anything for a couple seconds, and I tentatively say hello. There's no answer for awhile and then you softly say my name. Just like you used too.
Then I apologize for calling late, and I told you that it’s still May 6th my time so it’s still your birthday. And you giggled and said thanks. And then I ask about prom, and the pictures you posted on facebook flash through my mind, reminding me of how beautiful you are. And how grown up you looked, and how I would have killed to dance with you like we used to in your room. You say it was fun and something about how prom decorations turned out really well.
We’re both silent for a bit, and then I tell you I’m about to go and that we can catch up later. And you say something, you tell me, “thanks for everything.” And I say that I haven’t done anything and that you should go back to sleep. "But happy birthday " I say, " I hope you had an amazing day." We say goodnight.
But you don’t hang up, you just stop talking. And I can hear you breathing and I stay on the line and think about how to this very day you still make me hang up because you hate doing it. As I’m listening to you sleep like I used to, all the memories come rushing back and it hits me in the face. And my heart hurts because I still love you.
And so I tell you that, in the softest of whispers while you sleep. And I hang up.