Dear you:

To be honest, there are two people that I love - you and my heart of hearts. Every time that I see him, my heart skips a beat. It's a feeling of warmth, a feeling of familiarity that leaves us with emptiness when we don't kiss when we say goodbye. I can feel his jealousy burning like a hot candle and it's hard for me to let go even though it's been over four years. My heart yearns to be with you, to make you happy and to do whatever I can to please you, but with him, it's pleasing that I am me and that I don't have to be womanly. I don't have to make him dinner after work unless I want to and he's willing to do everything that gentlemen do. He opens doors for me, pulls out chairs, offers me gas money just to see me. There are things that I could demand from you, but what's the point? You should know these things already. Even if we don't have money to spend on one another, a good snapper under a moonlit night on the beach with waves would show me how much you want us to work.

My parents aren't impressed; they never have been. To them, you're a lazy loser that somehow got hooked up to me like a long lost tumor. Terrible, I know. I know you're not. I know that you do the best you can and you mean when you say that you love me. It's just nice to see it. To feel it. To make me feel special. With every look that he gives me, my fingertips tingle and I almost remember how his lips feel; full and sensuous on my skin. I feel so wrong, I feel like I'm a betrayer just thinking that maybe the grass would be greener. He has three jobs; he has a car that will be paid off by himself; he has the perfect friends that I would fit in with. Your friends barely even remember my name, let alone the time that I hang out with them. They're not interesting with their narrow-minded thinking that maybe life would be great if they just stayed where they were for the rest of their life until someone came and saved them.

However, no matter what anyone says, I love you so much. No matter how I feel about someone else, for some reason, I just can't, or won't, let go of you. I remember the color of your eyes in my dreams, the feeling of your hands on skin, the beating of your heart under my ear when I'm resting on your chest. I remember your stupid, funny jokes and the way you laugh makes my heart sing. You're beautiful, my heart, but lazy. How can I be important to you if you're lazy and not motivated to be my person? I need you to remind yourself why I'm amazing to you and why you should support me if we get married, or if we live together. I need you to remember our whispers of love at three in the morning and the feeling of my hips sliding against yours.

Make me proud of you, my love.

Current Mood: contemplative