#gabanti.

[andgabesdrunk]

[frickinsideblog-blog]

to be honest, i can't tell you for the life of me what happened, even if i know why now. maybe i'll just start with a play-by-play of when i woke up before they told me they sent you home, while i'm waiting in the time it'll take them to call you and for you to find your way over here when you can.

mostly i was scared to death waking up with tubes and IV needles in me, and thank god a nurse was there in record time. though she wasn't you, and all i wanted- all i want is you. for you to hold me, because i'm cold. freezing, actually. why's chicago so cold? a lot colder without you, honestly. severely lacking my warm-blooded gabanti.

they don't have clocks in here, but i'm assuming it's been anywhere from five minutes to an hour. who knows, though. time's passing so slowly, and i honestly feel like shit in every sense of the word. because all of this is my fault and i'm the one that pushed you further when i knew i shouldn't have. because i get angry too, and i get quiet and evasive. because i walked away, and i remember walking to courtney's. walking there, then waking up here. honestly, i don't think i ever made it there.

but when you get here, after i make you take a well-deserved nap in this shitty bed i'll make you squeeze yourself beside me to fit in, we've got a lot to talk about.

but i'm fine for now, honestly. breathing and eating on my own and everything. maybe a little tired and a little bit colder than usual, but i'm fine. i'm so sorry i scared you. i need to explain so many things to you and "i'm sorry" doesn't begin to cover it. i just want to be in your arms. to be held and for you to whisper stupid spanish things to me and tell you love me. because i'm okay, but it's you i worry about, and i know that's exactly what you'll have been wanting. because i know my gabe, and i know you're worrying when i'm worrying about you three times harder in return.

but when you get here, i'll kiss you until you stop rambling about stupid things, and maybe a little after. i'll tell you i'm okay a million times and i know you'll still be worrying, but that doesn't mean i'll stop. you can stop counting. there's still a long time before you'll be rid of me yet, i promise. i just- we'll talk about everything we need to and i can promise you that, but my main concern is you right now, because i can't have you thinking like that ever. you're one of the most important people to me in the world, and it hurts physically to think that i'm the reason you'd ever think about anything like that. because i was stupid and stressed and mad at you and i walked out on you and ended up here. 

i'm okay now, and i promise that with everything i've got. i'll get better in no time and be back to forcing santa hats on you and making you wrestle with a christmas tree in hopes of keeping it stationary enough to decorate with evie and i. because christmas is about family to me, and even if you don't celebrate it, you'll still have a family of your own while everyone is spending time with theirs. because i'm here and i'm okay and i need you to know that. i'm here, i'm okay, and when you get here, i'll have everything i need.

i love you, gabe. i love you and i'm so sorry all of this happened. and p.s., you're already as much a father to evie as i'll ever be, you know. and i'm never planning on letting you go, either.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxoxoxoxo, bilvy.

[frickinsideblog-blog]

i feel like this is the first time i've actually written one of these stupid letters on my computer rather than being lazy and typing it on my phone which is nice and could potentially make this like a trillion times longer than usual??????? i don't even mean to make them so long i just ramble a lot but mostly when i think about you and all the things i like about you and just sighs i find something new to talk about every time because to be honest, i spend most of my day thinking about you.

your stupid spanish endearments and how frickin sweet you always are to me. all you do is compliment me because i know that you know i don't agree with you; yet you do it anyway and it makes me smile. 

but see it's completely unfairly weighted, because i could go on about you forever and one day i fear that i actually might. your arms aren't lanky and stupid like mine, but they're actually strong and hella attractive. hell, your entire body is well built, and you've got a rockin tummy. your hands are so much warmer than mine- scratch that, every part of you is warm, and i'm always cold. it's funny that i'm from the windy city where i basically die every winter, yet i come to hawaii and i'm still only marginally less cold. actually- another lie. i'm only cold when i'm not snuggled up to you. especially under the blankets at night when i can curl up to you and know i'll be warm and safe all night. my warm-blooded gabanti. it's stupid things that i'm grateful for, really, yet i am.

essentially i'm just a loser who, if i wasn't attached before, has basically clung to you like a koala in the past.. how many days? because you make me feel good and you're sweet and i love being around you and i love kissing you and looking at you when you're not watching because that's when you're the cutest- but that's not to say you aren't adorable and extremely frickin attractive every other time of the day because you definitely are and i honestly just feel so frickin lucky that i can call you mine. you're so wonderful and sweet to me and it actually hurts a little because no one's really made me feel like i'm the most important person in the world before- but you're right up there with evie on my list.

quite honestly, i've never found you to be remotely asshole-like, despite what your fanbase seems to think. you're the sweetest person i know. you're genuine and caring and trustworthy and i just- sighs you're so good to me and it really matters because it means i enjoy spending every second with you and i'm regretting it when i'm not.

you're so perfect to me, gabriel. you've always been perfect, and it's never changed. you're a constant in my life when everything else is changing; you're my rock. i just- i'm so happy to have you in my life again. i forgot how much i need you around, and i'm definitely not letting myself do that again. it'll be like a page long if i continue but- thank you. just thank you for being here and loving me and being here for evie and being more wonderful than i really could have asked for. thank you.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxox, bilvy.

[frickinsideblog-blog]

it’s funny, you keep asking for this stupid letter. so greedy of you, but I guess I’d probably do the same. even if your section of this blog is three trillion times shorter than every letter I’ve written so far, yours are sweeter and stupid and I hate them because I read them like five times a day. just think about that every time you think you’re the lame one in this relationship.

actually I’m giggling typing that. relationship. boyfriend. gabe saporta is my frickin boyfriend. he’s mine, and I’m not sharing him.

it was all worth the stupid plane I was deathly afraid of. worth taking geneveive out of school for a week or so. for the stupid sneaky sex that’s better than i ever imagined it would be.

it’s kind of funny how when you first asked me today my mind reeled to all kinds of reasons why I didn’t deserve to say yes. I still don’t understand why you love me, really. I whine and complain and I’m needy and it’s stupid, but I probably would have kicked myself if I ended up not having said yes.

after how many years of wishing you’d just asked me that question? because I kind of never really thought you’d ask, and it surprised me. I’m still the stupid teenage boy with a crush, only now I get to call you mine. and you know what? it feels fucking fantastic. hell, the sex and the cuddling and the sweet words were nice, but it means so much more now that you’re mine.

and it's funny because people were sending fmks again and dank eyes said you'd crush me if he fucked me which made me grin all stupid because you're already so protective over me and it makes me feel.... good. and safe. which is ridiculous in itself, but even the small things make me grin like an idiot.

I’m ridiculous and it’s cheesy and I’ll never be able to write this shit without hating myself for being ridiculous and needy about it, but that’s essentially all these letters are about. oh, and sign off as yourself the next time, idiot.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo, your bilvy.

[frickinsideblog-blog]

i feel like i’ll be perpetually changing the coding/title/tags/everything for this blog (check it daily) just bc i can and it’s kind of my gift to you for us plus i’m definitely a sexy bunny in that sidebar picture so you can’t take it down ever and the overly dramatic icon from that one AP shoot i did this entire blog is me bc i’m fabulous and the master of all things blog

but that wasn’t even what this letter was about. see i’m glad no one can see this because i can be as cheesy/vulgar/descriptive as i want and it’s not even like i’m directly saying any of this to you so my stupid fucking stutter can’t get in the way of what i’m trying to get across

i honestly feel like hawaii with you is the best place i could ever be right now. maybe ever, because falling asleep and feeling safe with your arms around me after a night like that is honestly something i never really knew i needed until now. i don’t even know why i feel the need to come over here and spill my guts into another post, but maybe it’s just for me so i can properly see my words and reflect on them. but that’s somewhere i’ve always felt safe, your arms. i spend so much time protecting my little girl from the rest of the world that sometimes i realize i need a gabe saporta in my life to make me wake our neighbors or to help me fall asleep worrying a lot less than i’m used to.

and you know what? you’re right. i have had a stupid seventeen-year-old-boy crush on you since day one. you’re gabe frickin saporta. lead singer of cobra starship, spanish sweet-talking extraordinaire. my gabanti, my favorite south-american cutie. that spanish accent you have that can put me at your mercy. that deep voice you have, your toned stomach. that stupid confused glare you have in the mornings, how slutty you get when you’re drunk. there’s a lot about you that’s weird and somehow endearing to me, and it’s stupid and i hate it because internally i’m never growing up.

honestly, other than my own flesh and blood, you’re my favorite person to have around. you make me laugh, i can pretend i hate you for hours, but i can never be mad at you. you’ve known me for probably somewhere around a solid decade now, and you know more about me than i probably do.

i just- sometimes i feel like you might not know how much you mean to me, but these are all stupid reasons i’ve kept you around for so long. i’m kinda glad i picked midtown as the punk rock band to fangirl over all those years ago, because i wouldn’t have met the best friend i could ask for.

xoxoxoxoxoxo, bilvy.