so I have a weak spot for you, if that wasn't obvious already. I still wake up every morning ignoring the reality of us actually being "together" it was just so unreal, it happened so fast. I"ll never forget the way your lips came apart as you spoke the words that I had waited to hear from you for so long "let's make this official" if I could only explain to you in this letter how good it felt to finally get what I had wanted for so long. It was so perfect, you where so perfect. I"ll never forget consistently staying up with you all hours of the night for weeks straight, it was just you. You had me. And that was the scariest fucking thing in the world. remember our conversation by the pool? After a drink or two we started talking, one of our rather more serious of the conversations that we shared daily throughout the nights we had spent together, we talked about love, neither of us had gotten to that point yet. Without realization, without loving you yet, I had been putting my heart into this for sometime now. You know how you told me love doesn't exist? When I shook my head in aggreance with your statement, I never knew that I'd be staring at you with the same plain face like I always do weeks after that fact and think that maybe love wasn't something that was oblivious to us, maybe I could love you, or maybe I was in love with the idea of loving you. That's where it usually gets me, the thoughts. I mean after all, you're what I always wanted. despite the argument over if "the perfect guy" is ever out there, OR if there is ever a such thing as that. You where perfect to me, my god. I just couldn't get enough of you. And it terrified me. The idea of loving someone more then you could possibly love yourself. But, when it all boils down nothing is ever completely perfect, atleast not forever. I'll never forget the first time you had ever been mean to me, I'll never forgot the clueless stare that drowned my emotions as I watched the car you were in pull away after begging for you to atleast talk to me. How my mind scrambled as you where sitting in the same room as me, yet had refused to speak to me for hours. And why? Over absolutely nothing. And that's what it was like most the time. But as I was sitting in your bed and you wrapped your arms around me after not speaking to me for hours, I knew I loved you when I could forgive you, when you didn't deserve to be forgiven.
