Imagine this. One day, you're with the person you love. You love them in any way you can
think of. You love them like a best friend, but also like a lover. It isn't about wanting to date
them, it's about wanting to be as close to them as possible. Sometimes they say something,
and it makes you so happy, so genuinely happy, that you just want to crawl into their skin
and stay there forever.

But today, they're acting differently. Today, they're all nervous, skin tight against their
skull. Sweating, even though there's nothing to be nervous about. And then they say it. I'm
getting married.
It doesn't even have to be marriage, but something along those lines. I'm
moving in with someone. Me and my girlfriend are going official.

You are horrified. You two never dated. You kissed before, but that was in dark alleyways,
or on dance floors, or in your dorm room. it didn't count. It wasn't kissing as a couple.
It was kissing because you felt like it. But you still had the feeling that you two would grow
old together. Even after they started dating someone else. Even after they stopped
returning your calls. It just made sense. You two were meant for each other. You used to think
exactly the same stuff at exactly the same time. But you slowly started growing apart a while ago.

I'm getting married, they say. They say it with a graveness because they know how hard it
will hit you. Because they know you love them more than you should. They feel the same way,
actually. The only difference is that they managed to escape it before it completely consumed them.
And you didn't.


You spend most of your life thinking you don't like to be hugged.
Only now you start to realize that maybe you just hadn't found the right
person yet.


to love, and be loved in return... To sit somewhere and be able to lean against
someone's shoulder without being pushed away, without being called gross...


I've had this scenario stuck in my head for a while now. In this scenario I am
crying. I'm at your house, and you're sitting on your bed, and I'm in front of you,
explaining why I'm upset. I say I can't do it anymore. Whatever it is, I'm not sure.
But you understand. You give me a hug. We end up kissing, once, and afterwards I hide
my face in your shoulder, my nose bumping against your neck. You kiss my hair and I
calm down in the little cocoon I built out of you.


I think I'm in love with someone. In the romantic sense, I mean. I've had this
particular affliction before, but it remains just as intense no matter how many
times it happens. I feel the sudden urge to spend every moment of my time with
this person. I want to get to know everything about them, and tell them all about
me in return. Even the embarrassing bits. Especially the embarrassing bits, really.
because I can't tell them to anyone else. I want to tell this person all of my
stupid thoughts and I want to hear their stupid thoughts in return. And I won't
even laugh at all. I promise.


Love is...
I'm not quite sure. It's... a lot of apologizing. It's very scary, as well.
It's hurting people without intending to, and feeling terrible afterwards.
I must reiterate that it is terrifying. You want to be the best version of
yourself for someone, so much so that sometimes it seems like you're turning
into someone else. Sometimes you won't know for certain if it's even worth it.

But being loved... is the most wonderful thing you can imagine. Imagine waking
up next to someone who adores you, who wants to be close to you. Their arms
around you, them kissing your forehead... the way their mind is filled with reasons
to adore you. Someone who loves you for your creativity, or your brightness, or
the way you love learning about things. The way things interest you. Imagine
someone loving you for the true base components that make you up. Your smile,
or the way your voice sounds. Your hope for a better future, or the way you always
work hard. Your habits, your favorite fabric, the smell of your freshly washed
hair. Imagine being loved! Imagine it, just briefly! is that not a wonderful
feeling to chase? Do you not yearn for it? Do you not wish you were there, in that
bed I just described, next to this person you love?

Imagine loving someone in this way, and then imagine them loving you in return.
You will fight, eventually. Everyone does, sometimes. You will have disagreements.
You'll probably wind up making each other cry without even realizing or intending
to. But you'll love each other. You'll care for each other. You'll want to make
the world a better place simply so the other can comfortably live in it.
Imagine this. Imagine it the way I do, and I'll know I'm not alone.


I imagine going somewhere with you, in the future, when we're together. A beach,
in the winter, where we brave the cold weather so we can go on a walk with our arms
linked together and the sea breeze in our hair. We'll get hot chocolate afterwards.
I think that warmth and love are linked. I'm not sure how to explain it, but I'll
try. I think... hugs feel warmer when the person who is hugging you is someone you
love. Touches in general feel a lot nicer when the person who is touching you is
someone you love and trust (Like when someone brushes past you, for example- It almost
feels gross when a stranger does it, but when a loved one does it it really is no
big deal. Holding hands, too, if you're particularly fond of the person you're holding
hands with they'll inexplicably feel warmer, but not in a gross, sweaty way. in a
way that makes shivers run down your spine, that makes your heart thump so loudly
you can feel it in your chest, that makes your hands shake, that makes you giggle

wait, what was I talking about?


I still feel like I'm dying.
I don't know if this is love or
simple obsession. I don't know
if this is what love is. If it
is, I am getting way less out
of it than you would expect.
If this isn't love, well thank
God for that.


Sometimes thinking about you makes me want
to throw up. Every meeting is a separate
religious experience, and every human emotion
is love, just packaged in different ways. I want
to teach you what love means to me and
I want you to explain your love to me, too.


I was wrong. Love isn't real and it never will be
and the people who say they love you are lying
and the people who tell me are lying and the
person who told me today that he knew I liked
him yet ignored it for years and the person who
knows I adore him but won't even treat me like
a person are the only people who have any idea
what's going on in the world.


I loved you so much for such a long time. I was
so obsessed with you. You were so important to
me, and we clicked so well, and every time you
said my name or laughed at one of my jokes I
felt my heart start pounding. I was jittery all
over. I wanted to be in a room with you, talking
to you. Being with you. I couldn't stay. I had
to leave. I couldn't do this to you. Couldn't
let you know. You shouldn't know. If you ever
find out I'll be mortified. But I also feel like
you're smart enough to already have it
figured out. I miss you so much. Please never
talk to me again. I want to crawl into your skin. I
hope I never see you again. I hope we both die.
I love you. I miss you. Come back to me. Leave.


I think it was unhealthy. I was in love with
you and you knew and you didn't love me back.
I think I liked you too much. I don't think
we should speak anymore. but I miss you so
fucking much


I've talked about it before, but love is a bunch
of despites. despite everything you've done, I
still love you. despite the way you respond to
my love, with mocking and confusion, dis-
regarding it, despite that, I still love
you. despite despite despite. You make me feel
like I'm human. you make me feel normal.
Nobody has ever made me feel like that before.
and I want the feeling back. I'll love you even
as you hurt me, and if you kill me, I'll die
worth more than I ever was before I met you.
and even if you don't love me, I still feel
loved. I think it's the price one pays for
getting to know me.


Every time someone tells me I'm talented I fall
a little bit in love with them. But I like to think
I do this without them noticing. Life is already
mortifying enough without them knowing every
embarassing fact about my life.

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