I've done a lot of thinking lately. The kind of thinking that only occurs when you're pressed between bedsheets and the clock is staring back at you in bright red 3am's and your mind is playing a constant loop of memories you'd rather forget. Let's face it: My love life is pretty much a giant shit show. I've had my heart ripped out of my chest one too many times at the young age of 18. It's a mix of youthful idealism and hope and a desperate desire to believe in someone against all odds. It's the lure of breathing in a familiar smell while tucked in the arms of someone you've silently loved for years, even though better judgment says he'll hurt you again. Now we are together, but just friends. You are there for me to get over my many mistakes. You are still nursing a bruised and broken heart. You make me want to believe in something – in wishing on shooting stars and being just friends. I thought that I just needed you as a friend. Just you. Nothing more. Nothing less. You are someone to share my secrets with and to cuddle up with when I am having trouble sleeping. You are someone who makes me smile. I thought this was enough. Turns out, it isn’t anywhere near enough. You know just how to wind me up and you get annoyed over silly things. We have our flaws and our little arguments, but you were the one who taught me how to love. I love your hugs. I love your enchanting smile. I love the many things you do. I love how cute you look when you’re angry. I love how you’re shy. I loved it when I could feel you smiling when we kissed. I loved our snuggles. I love how you make me laugh. That's why I love you, your million different characters never failed to interest me. I just love you for you. I can’t explain why, it transcends explanation. Like I'm talking head over heels, stars in your eyes in L-O-V-E. I love you with all my heart even though I know you aren't perfect. But I know this is the best for us because I'm learning. It really is the hardest way but that's the only way. This pain lets me know that I'm capable of feeling. Sadness was, for months, the only passion that let me know there was blood in these veins. I thought a lot about how I could never really figure you out, because at times you would lock yourself up in your own little world, one I could never get access to. I could sometimes find this mesmerization amusing, interesting, but then it had got me feeling more and more left out, until I found myself standing on the outside of your snowbubble, knocking on the glass. And I thought about life before you, how my world used to be, what I used to be into, what I used to think mattered. And I thought about how life would be after you. And my thoughts ran to how you made me see things from a different point of view, how I sometimes managed to see through the keyhole to your galaxy, how coffee tasted better when you sat opposite the table telling me one of your stories, how times with you I then thought of bad actually now seemed better than anything else I could ever see in the future without you. Now I can appreciate everything. Most importantly, I appreciate you. Could this all be real, will I finally get my happily ever after? I guess I'll wait with my heart longing, impatiently, for your comeback.
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