From February

Dear You,

I never imagined in a million years that it would be you, in the end. Never in a million years did I think it would be anybody. I mean, I thought I already had someone for me. I don’t remember how it started, I don’t remember when it started. All I know is it happened the first time I saw you after Christmas. From January until now, we’ve gotten so much closer.

I don’t know why it started. I think it was a little random. I think one day, I was talking to you and then, it just sorta kicked in and hit me in the head. So from therefore on, I loved it when I had your slightest attention.

Now here’s where I tell you what you need to understand. I’m not like them. Not like those girls, who took a different approach to you. I don’t like clinging to you, throwing myself all over you. I don’t like to follow you around, I don’t sit beside you. I don’t like it being obvious to others. I don’t like forcing it upon you.

I don’t like making the moves, for fear of annoying you. In case you don’t appreciate girls sitting on your lap and smothering you with hugs 24/7. I just kinda lay back a bit. I don’t want to spend time with you because I’m ever so coincidentally beside you all the time (ahem, stalking you.). I’d rather you make the decision to come to me. To sit beside me, to talk to me. To hug me of your own accord.

I put myself in positions where that would be easy for you to do. I should be easy to approach, to talk to. And in the past couple weeks, that happened. It was lovely.

While those handful of girls were flinging themselves at you, it was nice for once to come sit beside me and enjoy yourself in some new company. While they were consistently hugging you, grabbing your hand, sitting on your lap; it was actually enjoyable for you to come and put your arm around me. I was a safety, and I’m fine with that because you’re mine.

I like your smile. I like when you dance with me. I like when you come to me. I like when you sit beside me and talk. I like when we laugh together. I like our mindless little games. I like the way you hug me, I feel so wonderfully safe. And. I like you.

Thanks for being an awesome friend, thanks for improving the best five months of my life. Thanks for showing me what it feels like to be held. Thank you for holding me. Thanks for your consistent hugs when I’m sad. Thanks for our little backstage cuddle-puddles and thumb wars. Thanks for telling me I was amazing. You are too.

I miss you already, and I’ll miss you everyday until we meet again.

 

 

(Tonight, I’ve been reading back some old journal entries. They’re quite brilliant so I needed to publish.)