I've always loved you more then I should have. I've always felt the fall too much, and read into everything too much. I'm scared to death of us, and I can only hope you're either completely sure or just as scared as I am.
*mine*
My theory was that if I kept my distance maybe you would see what you're missing.
I just want to be the girl you talk about, the only one you couldn't live without. To be the one who makes your heart beat crazy, and for you to say to your boys, "She's my baby."
If she loves you, if she really loves you, you'll know it. If you can wake up to her staring at you and it's not even mildly creepy, if you catch her smelling the shoulder of the hooded sweatshirt you lent her for while you were away, if she makes you a pancake in the shape of a shark, if she calls you drunkenly at four in the morning "to talk", if she laughs at your jokes when they're funny and makes fun of you when they're not, if she keeps her fridge stocked with Guinness tallboys for you when you come over, if she tells you how much she wishes she were closer to her brother and that her dad makes her sad: She loves you. Of course she loves you.
So please, just be patient. I'm so afraid to care about someone. I know it seems like I'm this strong person who can get through anything, but inside I'm very fragile. I've had so many things thrown at me, and each one has only made a crack. What I'm afraid of is shattering.
I don't look for love. I was simply attracted to him; I liked the way he looked, moved and spoke. I liked the way he thought and the way he was. And somehow, without my heart making sure it was okay with me first, I fell in love with him. I told him, and he ran away from me. I accepted that and lived my life. I hoped he'd come back to me, but I never begged, and I never bothered him. Eventually, he realized he missed me. And later on, he realized he loved me. And then he became okay with loving me. And now we're simply living day to day, making no plans for the distant future. We're okay with staying together until it simply doesn't work for us anymore. And if we work together for the rest of our lives, so be it. If we don't, that's too bad, but it was amazing while it lasted.
*mine*
I wish to feel smaller under your sheets. I wish for the whole truth every time you speak. And I'm thinking about how you care half as much for me as I watch you arise, smoke cigars, sleep. And I guess it doesn't matter what I say or what I seem, you stuck what I felt for you in the pocket of your jeans. Ignoring me the morning after isn't enough and I swear I'm gonna cry, I'm sick of trying to be tough.
You know what? Yes, I know you're a flirt. But when I see you chatting with some girl across the room, it disgusts me. I used to be like that, and at time, I still am. I've tried my damn hardest to control my flirtatious side. Jealousy isn't a fun emotion, and you already know I hate being angry. I know I can't change you, but I feel that I'm in the right to ask you to try. This will be the last time I ask you to try not to full-on flirt around me. It's not an ultimatum; it's a request. I'm not saying it's the last time I'll talk about it, and it's definitely not the last time I'll be upset about it. But I won't ask you again. Just know that it makes me feel replaceable, unwanted, and hurt. And logic is no match for feelings, darling.
*mine*
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