It's eight o'clock and it just started to rain.
I read what you sent me and I've just finished reading it again.
I envy you. I've always valued words, but my thoughts always seem to stay how they are. Just thoughts. Even though I know they want to be more than just that.
So now I'm gonna try and grant their wishes. I'm not really organized with my thoughts or as creative as you are, but I'm gonna attempt to write, anyway.
I'm the type of person whose mind always betrays her a lot. There are memories I want to remember forever (both good and bad) but for some reason I forget. It's different with you, though. Like, I can recall a lot of things that happened between you and me in just one sitting.
Remember when we first started texting? I'd gotten your number and wanted to say hi, but I knew that wouldn't get your attention. So I brought out the only topic worth of actual, personal significance to us back then: when we first kissed.
Once that worked, we started talking about other things and I remember you saying "true" a lot and I couldn't believe I was actually holding a conversation this long with the ever-argumentative Ymman.
"Listen to Neri per Caso," is what you said along with, "Let's enumerate all the bitches" and "Don't tell MJ I'm still texting people." Then my favourite part: "Wanna be my summer love?"
Actually, I said that part. Even though the guy is supposed to ask [lamE]. Because you were all like, "Have you ever had summer love?" all wistful and shit before I asked you that. Then you were all like, "Omg I feel like Shayne Orok right now" afterwards.
Then you were officially my summer love.
At least, for five minutes.
Because you were all, "Hey this is is summer love, not Titanic blah blah blah maybe we should just stay as friends blah blah blah." Basically crushed my heart at two in the morning via text message. Then we had that stupid contest with that stupid prize.
But enough about that. I'd like to make a point by bringing up this memory. Or more specifically, by bringing up a certain part of it.
It's when you were telling me all the things you liked about me, and I was telling you shit about what I liked about you.
("I think you're hot." "You kinda are, too." Bastard.)
But now you do it all the time. Compliment me and stuff and make me /blush/ at two in the morning this time around. And I always try to bring it back to you. Try to give you a piece of my thoughts in return. But I've found that I can never give it in just pieces. I'm scared of flooding you with my thoughts and my sappy words of endearment. I'm scared that you'll feel like it's the Titanic all over again.
I always feel like we're never on the same page. Like I'm in way too deep than you are. I'm afraid that one day I'll open my eyes and I'll see that you're way up there and I'm stuck down here and it's not fair because you're better at climbing than I am.
It's when I get reminded again that I'm not enough for you. When I dream about you wrapped up around me. When I commit your scent to memory then randomly remember it. When my mind recreates the memory of your lips on my neck, on my hand, on mine. Then I play it on repeat.
It's when these things happen over and over again and I'm all like, "Meh. He probably doesn't experience this. This is probably just me" and that's what made me say that I love you more.
Thank you for reassuring me, though, that when you love it's "pretty rock-bottom" and that we are on the same page and it became enough to convince me that I'll just keep my eyes closed and trust that you're right in front of me.
So I just want to tell you about a few things. Things that run through my mind pretty much all the time. Things that I never say enough. Things that mostly include my sappy words of endearment.
I miss you, too. I can't stress on those four words enough. The whole "I miss you" & "I miss you, too" exchange is a common thing that people tell each other all the time, and I don't think it's enough to let you know that I wanna be where you are and it's like I can't breathe until I'm finally beside you. Feeling like it's taking forever for the clock to point to 3:45 so I can get you all alone and do something stupid. Wishing that I could literally put your laugh in a bottle just so I can hear it when you're away. Wondering if it's possible to make a gif of that smile you made that Monday morning after our Saturday happened. That smile that reassured me Saturday wasn't just a dream.
You bring meaning to such little things. Like whenever I see a fuchsia flower now, in my mind's eye, you are there fucking eating it up. Or like how a thumbtack reminds me of when you were poking my arm with it like a fucking dork. Polka-dotted ties aren't just polka-dotted tiles anymore. 'Sunday Morning' is more than just a song. It was when I first heard you sing on that one October day.
Also, here's something you should know about me. Jealousy is a feeling I never like to entertain. Feeling it is inevitable, I suppose, but I'm not the most reactive person where it's concerned.
My mother gets really jealous a lot. Emphasis on "really jealous" and "a lot." It's the reason why my parents often fight and it got to the point where my mom was about to leave the house.
I honestly get more jealous when you're around men, for some reason ???
Like when Juan was hugging you and I was all like no what are you doing that's not fair you can't just do that ???
Like when you and your bros take cute selfies together and you just hang out them when y'all are topless ??? And you're there on Roy's bed just lying there and someone can just jump at you (topless) and it'd be totally cool and I'm just here wondering if they could ever allow "Bro (feat. Seanelle) Night" even though it's probably just gonna be like "Seanelle-Stealing-Ymman-from-the-Bros Night" ???
And honestly, no matter how much you piss me off and mark your territory as the "diva" in this relationship, I'm still gonna look at you and "dork" will always come to mind first.
You're infuriating, you know that?
I could go from wanting to squish your cheeks one moment to slapping them the next. And then I'd probably ask you if the slap hurt and then squish your face anyway.
I care about you a lot. I know I'm being Captain Obvious, but whatever. It's hard to show sometimes, because I know you can handle yourself. That's what Emy kept telling me that night when you got drunk and it was late and you were only commuting and my mind wouldn't stop bitching about how the only way it would calm down was if you answered the phone and told me you were fine.
So this whole thing in a nutshell is basically me saying "I love you."
And it's one in the morning and I should really really get to bed and yeah, I love you.