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Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Love...

Love is an amazing thing. It's such a unique and euphoric feeling when you love someone, but it's also the deepest, most stinging pain when something happens to that love.


The biggest problem, in my case, is that when I love someone I love them for everything that they are. I love them for their smile, for the way that their hair falls in their face, for the way that they cuddle with me, for that little imperfection right around the waist line, for their beautiful eyes - even if they are a color that most people wouldn't consider beautiful, they're beautiful because they're staring so intimately into mine.

I love the way I can touch a certain place and drive you crazy, because nobody else has taken the time to actually love your body the way that I do, and the fact that you can do the same to me. And that even if someone else does find your certain place, they won't be gentle enough to get the same reaction that I did. I love the way that you feel safe in my arms, and can fall asleep just because I'm holding you. I love lying next to you and feeling like time has stopped. I love falling asleep with you in my arms, even if just for a few minutes, and waking up with the most beautiful woman in my arms. I love the way that you kiss me in a way that no other woman ever has. I love that I know your favorite part of my body, and that you know my favorite part of yours.

I love that you will watch movies with me, and enjoy them just because I enjoy them. I love that you can put aside your passion to appreciate my passion for a day... and that I am willing to do the same for you.



But I hate that you can throw all of that away in the blink of an eye. That you can move on to something else without even mentioning it to me, and without thinking about how I will be affected. That you would let something like age, and other people's opinions, stand in the way of what we have. And I hate that you won't even admit that we had something special, something that neither of us will ever forget. I don't know how you can do these things, and I wish I could understand.

I hate that sinking feeling that I now have in my stomach, because I miss you every day. I hate that I can't even text you without feeling an intense urge to find you and hug you. I hate that I can't find single picture of just the two of us, anywhere. I hate that you are still the first thing that I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing that I think about before I go to bed... but I only hate it because it brings back that sinking feeling again and again. And I hate that you indirectly told me that you loved me, while simultaneously moving on.

And lastly, I'm afraid... afraid that I will never hold you in my arms again, never kiss you again, and never look into your eyes and see what I saw before. That I will never watch another movie with you cuddled up next to me. That I will never again wake up next to you, even if it is on a couch while watching TV. And I'm afraid that I will never be able to see you again without that same sinking feeling in my stomach.



But most of all, I wish that I hadn't waited until after it was too late to tell you all of this.

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