oh, joy

Posted Monday, August 22, 2011 // 0 comments (+)

#469.
It's a little bit discerning that I find myself only really appreciating you after reading that. It's nearly nine months now (oh my god the relationship baby is due) and I hope I'm not taking you for granted. The other night with M we had this talk. I told her a few of the things you'd said to me, things you'd said to others, and I'm surprised that I had to say it out loud, before I could understand that we are serious. This is going to be a strange, serious, somewhat corny post. I urge you not to read on if you are weak of heart.

Looking back over our short yet seemingly infinite (I do not joke I don't remember what things were like before I met you) time together, I see it. Those moments when I thought I wasn't enough for you, when I wondered if this was really something I was serious about. I want to flykick myself in the head for all of those times when I questioned us. And there it is. I don't want to lose to anyone else with you. I want to know that all those words you've said to me late at night are true. There's never really a way though, is there. Words are always just words until they can no longer be contradicted. Only then do they become the truth.

Then there are those time when I get upset because I can't see you every fucking second day. We see each other more than few other couples do. I should be content in the fact that I have you at all. We can't be together all the time, no one can be together all of the time. And it's inevitable that in between we're going to miss each other, right? Today the girls were talking about another couple that were fighting over something useless and how guys should always give their girls space. Fuck that, I would give anything to close that space between us. Are you napping right now?

Every particle of me wants to believe that we are on the better/less-rickety side of the bridge. To believe that since we've made it this far with less fights than I could count on one of my hands that we will be bound. I know this sounds freaky deaky coming from a fifteen year old girl. It's hard to express any sort of emotion as a fifteen year old girl without all of life's constant stereotypes twisting and stretching your words into something that everyone scoffs at.

This is long. I'll just end it here. Baby, to say the very least, you are my reality. I don't have to imagine you being perfect for me because you are. Your flaws are your kind of perfection and I would not have you any other way. My day starts and ends with you, and I hope it remains like this for a long time. I can't see how I would be without you. I am fifteen, I am angsty, and I have fallen so far into love I'm not quite sure how to get out. Fuck it, I don't want to get out. I like the view from down here.