dear you,
i’m worried about the insecurities you’re getting about eating in front of other people. we all eat. we all eat. we all eat.
eat,
me
dear you,
you could never really disappoint me in the sense that i will never truly reach that part of you.
ideally,
me
dear you,
i don’t want to sleep on your fucking couch without you. i don’t want to fall asleep to the sounds of your tiny tv without you. but i did these things.
your door was open, so i know the air circulating around us in our slumber was sending messages we couldn’t say when we’re face to face. i wanted so badly to say something outloud like, “i know it’s difficult. i can’t promise it’ll get better. but, if it were me, i’d treat you like the queen of the world.” alas, i cannot say these things outloud. not even when there is a wall between us. because there was that one door that was open.
just like when you ask me, “are you okay?” i keep a wall between us, and i make sure that fucking door is shut. i don’t want you peeking in and seeing the heavy, heavy truth i’m hiding from you.
yours,
me
dear you,
how dare you say “i don’t even know you.” you were the closest i ever came to saying “i love you” to someone. well, then.
fuck you,
me
dear you,
i think so much because of you. i think about you and every step leading to you. when we met. what we said. when we touched hands in the darkroom. the first time i texted you. how i was afraid of liking you. now i do like you. and you liked me. why would i call it off? because i have morals. i’m beginning to hate my morals. my heart is begging to be yours.
always,
me
dear you,
look-
if i say i’m in love with such and such celebrity. then i tell you that you remind me a lot of such and such celebrity, shouldn’t you be able to jump to my conclusion.
sayitback,
me
dear you,
i’m just sick of you. because i’m a lot more rational than you. and you will not listen to my reasoning because you are older than me; therefore, you don’t need to listen to what i say.
only biologically, yours,
me
dear you,
i never thought i could feel emotions so strong. i thought i’d always be chasing people my whole life, never finding anything that fits so well in my puzzle. but, i’ve found you in my life. i have never been more comfortable with anyone; maybe not even myself. i know what i have with you is good, so i’m never fucking letting go.
all of my love,
me
dear you,
i know we’re thinking the same thing. but i seem to take it to the next step.
you think it must be okay for you to lie down in my bed. i think that i can’t believe how lucky i am to know you find comfort in the place i sleep.
you think it must be okay for you to rest you head against my leg. i think that i should build up the courage to run my fingers through your hair. (i don’t, of course.)
you think it must be okay for you to open my cupboards and what-not and look through my things. i think that it would be incredible if you found my secrets.
i want to know more of what you’re thinking, and i want to take it to the next level.
love,
me
dear you,
i wish this was more like a book, so i could blurt out the words “i love you” and you’d rush to my kiss and embrace. however, this is real, distance exists, and you’re currently 540 miles away from me.
wishing,
me
