It started with the butterflies. The palpitations. The nerves and sweat. The urge to run for the hills whilst being rooted in place. That yearning to be with you all the time. Those feelings that had me thinking how great it would be if we could be with each other all the time. It was a nice feeling. Made me a nervous wreck. Made me nervous. It was embarrassing how I acted— how I stuttered and stammered where I didn’t before. We had been friends before then and would be well after. We swore it.
Eventually the butterflies faded. That extreme fight or flight response giving way to an instant calm when you’re around. I feel safe and warm and everything melts away. It’s how home would feel. Honestly I feel safe when I’m with you. Like I used to think it was corny when in books or movies and stuff they’d describe the person they’re in love with as feeling like home but me god if that isn’t the closest thing to how it feels. You just feel safe comfortable and familiar. Like I can be at ease when I’m around you and if that isn’t how home is meant to feel then home just isn’t a feeling. Instead of yearning for eternal closeness I want more goofy moments with you like that time you stole my Gatorade and drank half of it or that time you picked me up and dropped me and we just dissolved into laughter or all those times you’d force me to become a blushing stuttering mess and give me that cute little half smirk and laugh— any time really. We had a lot of good times— great times in my opinion.
I loved kissing you. I still do. Where there were once fiery passionate kisses or nonstop peck peppered all over our faces I want more casual and instinctive ones. A kiss goodbye. A kiss good morning. One more before we go to work which turns into fifteen or twenty or thirty more until it’s really the last one. A kiss when we wake up and are too tired to even really think about it. Kisses in the park, kisses in the dark, kisses beneath the stars when we finally go stargazing like we always wanted. Kisses in the middle of giggling fits or kisses seemingly out of nowhere because you’re just so cute I can’t help it. Kisses because you make me weak. Kisses because your soul is so beautiful. Quick kisses stolen while passing each other. Kisses on the forehead when you’re down. You get it. Just kisses any and every moment but not all the time because we don’t need to. Kisses like the stars inside us want to merge and yet each one still sets off the Big Bang somehow.
More than the kisses, the looks. Soft tender looks when you’re playing with animals or kids. Amused glances and slight eye rolls when you do something stupid and still, pure adoration because I’m so lucky to have you. Lingering stares full of love and adoration when we think the other isn’t looking. Shared gazes when we turn our heads to see the other already looking— the quick shock that used to show up after gradually fading into an of course they’re already looking. The appreciative looks when you or I help out with no spoken words. The looks of understanding when one of us is down and saying we’re fine but we just know and are just there. Your eyes are so beautiful. Truly. They glow the way the treetops do around half past four during the summer, when everything’s warm and golden and yet they pull me in like the moon does the tide.
Of course, everything about you pulls me in that way. It’s like you’ve got your own gravitational pull the way I move to be near you. It’s so instinctive I don’t even realize it. I remember how it used to annoy us, not being able to figure it out. Me constantly running into you, even if I didn’t know you were there. Eventually you started doing it too and even later we’d just laugh whenever it happened, bumping knuckles and knees without a care in the world. Of course, sometimes those touches were more deliberate. A hand on the knee or the back when you’re stressed. Hands running through your hair. Hands interlocking, your thumb striking my knuckles. The instinctive pull to lean on your shoulder. All the silent I love yous spoken with only a touch. Actions really are louder than words June. Every touch really was electric. Still is. Puts me on cloud nine.
I like noticing these things. Realizing things about you I didn’t know before. How your eyes light up and crinkle on the sides when you smile and really mean it. How you gesture madly and look so free when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about. I loved all those rants and will love those to come. I like the way your smile looks on your face, how your eyes glow in the sun, how your hair looks stunning in every light. I love your laugh. All of them. And I like knowing I can tell them apart. I love learning to read all the subtle shifts in your demeanor that give way to what you’re thinking because God knows you suck at talking about stuff. I hate it too though at times. How I notice when you’re faking a smile. When you’re holding back tears. When you’re dying inside and won’t tell me why. I hate it. You always bounce back, and you say I help. I just feel bad for not doing more I suppose.
I can’t really talk about not talking about how I feel though. I mean here I am, writing all this on a blog you don’t know exists. Hell, you don’t even have tumblr. Maybe you’d see it on Pinterest at some point. Not that you’d know it’s me. Or maybe you would. I’d like to think you know my writing style by now when I’m writing romantic stuff to you. With how many of these I’ve texted you. Random romantic rants coming out of nowhere. Only positive of all these hormones I guess. I don’t think I’m going to send this one. Actually. I usually doubt if I will or not but I think this time I’ll leave it to chance. If it gets to you or not.
If it gets to you June, I want you to know that I still love you. It’s always been you and it always will. Even if you’ll never truly know how much I love you through my words since words are dumb, I want to do my utmost to convey at least some level of my feelings. Seeing as though I can no longer talk to you or be near you at least for now, I figure maybe putting this out in the world would make it shorter. Idk. Butterfly effect or whatever. I’m sorry.
I want you to know that I want to make you happy— the happiest you’ve ever been. I want to make you feel safe and loved and cared for and comfortable. I want to be able to be there for you when you’re sad or scared or alone or a feeling there aren’t really words for and be able to hold you in my arms or let you hold me however tightly you want, however long you need until you’re feeling better or at the very least I want to at least be able to make you feel a little more okay or okay enough that you know eventually you’ll be able to feel the opposite of whatever it was you were feeling. And I know I’ve said it a million times and you know it even if you don’t believe it fully yet so I’m gonna say it again. Regardless of how much it annoys you when I say the same thing over and over because yeah I know you know how I feel about you but I don’t care because until you truly believe it I’ll say it again and again. I know you don’t think you’re worthy of love or anyone who you get attached to will leave you but I promised you I wouldn’t and I meant it. Even now when you aren’t talking to me I’m still here. Even if you wind up not loving me anymore or you find someone better l I’ll still be here. I can’t help it June. I love you at your best. I love you at your worst. I love you at the best of you I’ve seen and I’ll love you at the best of you I will see. I love you at the worst of you I’ve seen and I’ll still love you even if you get worse. I’ll love you on your good days. I’ll love you on your bad days. I’ll love you on your mid days. I’ll love you on days where you need to just sit and cry for hours and I’ll love you after all the tears have dried and you’re embarrassed about crying because guys don’t cry or whatever crap that is you believe. I’ll love you on days when you’re happier than ever and are extremely grateful to be alive. I’ll love you until the day I die and even then I’ll continue loving you from the afterlife.
I used to want one of those loves out of a fairy tale but not anymore. Not with you. I want the type of love that no matter how bad it gets for us we work it out and are better for it. I want I love you in this life and every life after to actually mean something you know? I want the type of love that any romance novelist could only dream of writing. A tale so full of heart and genuine raw human emotion it’d transcend any type of writing. Only able to be mildly explained any way it was
anyways that’s all for now. I miss you June
— Jay
