Out of the millions of things I could think about, I always find myself thinking of you.
He's on your mind constantly. It's strange how one person can permeate through your mind. It's as if he's chosen to reside within the recesses of your mind, and he's always there, demanding attention. In reality, you don't mind that he's there. If anything, you like that he's there with you all the time. You're never bored.
You can go out to shop, but in your mind, you're walking along the beach with him. You're eating dinner, but in your mind, he's sitting across the table from you. You're walking your dog, and he's right there with you. He's pointing out the flowers and smiling as the sunlight shines on his face. His bright purple hair almost seems to glow in the light.
In your mind, you're always together. Even as you fall asleep, he's beside you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you drift into a comfortable sleep. You can feel his arms around you. You can smell his sweet intoxicating scent. You can imagine his soft lips pressing into yours gently, his skin soft under your fingertips as you slip your hand behind his neck. You pull him closer, breathing him in. You're so close that you're practically one.
But this isn't real. He's not beside you right now. You're not falling asleep in his arms. But you can imagine. And that has to be enough for now.
You've decided on the date. You're not sure how he feels, but you know you want to tell him how you feel. You feel like he has a right to know how much you adore him. You love everything about him. From his beautiful blue and green eyes to his adorable, infectious laugh, you love absolutely everything. He's the closest thing to perfection you've ever encountered.
You know you have to tell him how you feel. You can't risk not taking this chance. Everything in life is a risk, so why not take the risk that could lead to something better?
Two more days. The two of you text as usual, and you reply almost too fast to his messages. You love texting him. In reality, you'd love to see him in person, but he's a little too busy. Maybe next month, he says. You can't wait.
One more day. You text him like nothing's wrong. Well, technically nothing's wrong. Everything's right, if anything. You can't wait. You want to do it today, but the moment needs to be right. You text him like you always do, and he sends you some pictures of his cat Jet. You love him and his cat. You can imagine living with him and sleeping in the same bed together, Jet curled up between the two of you. It's a beautiful thought. One day left.
The following morning, you send him your usual "good morning" text. He replies after a bit. You know that he has time off today, so that's why you chose this specific day to do it. You read over your prepared text again. It's short, sweet, and to the point:
I have something I need to tell you. I like you. I like you a lot—as more than a friend. If you're ever ready to open up your heart to someone, I'm here. And I wouldn't dare break it.
You really hope he likes you, too. You would be devastated if he didn't, but at the same time, you just want to be a part of his life—in one way or another.
You let out a breath and reply to his latest text. You try to see if the moment is right. It's not. Your heart beats rapidly; you want to go and tell him, but you need to wait for the right moment.
You continue chatting, and after a while, the conversation starts to turn toward romance. You know this is the moment, so you text him:
I have something I need to tell you.
He replies after a moment:
What is it?
You let out a breath and send:
I like you. I like you a lot—as more than a friend. If you're ever ready to open up your heart to someone, I'm here. And I wouldn't dare break it.
He reads the message, and he doesn't reply for a minute. You can literally hear your heart beating rapidly. You're so nervous. You feel like you're going to pass out. He's typing. He's still typing. And then he stops typing.
You keep staring at your phone, begging for him to text you back already. And then finally, he texts you—it's long:
First of all, thank you for telling me that. It means so much. I'm so so glad you told me because I feel the same way about you. (I'm so sorry this is taking so long to type—I know you're probably freaking out.) I wanted to tell you how I felt, but I really didn't know how. You took the plunge for me, and I appreciate it so much. It makes it so much easier for me to say this: I really like you, too. Please be mine, and I'll be yours.
You read it again, and again, and again. You're absolutely ecstatic. He likes you back. You can't believe your eyes.
You text him back quickly, and the two of you arrange to have a formal date.
Please be mine, and I'll be yours.
You couldn't have imagined anything more beautiful in this moment.
You go on a date. And another. And then another. Dates turn into more dates. First kisses turn into more kisses. Innocent touching turns into not-so-innocent touching. And love grows stronger and stronger with each passing day. You couldn't have imagined a more beautiful life.
I cry at this