Looking through old files, found under "love.doc"
The convolution of his lies make you gasp with a feeling so painful yet hopeful; a feeling that you know is better than anything and everything else, because it means you are not lying where you used to stand. And this is the only time you would rather things be unpredictable than safe. You impatiently wait for that moment, once again, in which your life is on the line, and you are at peace. Calm. Everything you thought you had and lost, you now realize was nothing. Is nothing. This, today, is everything. There are very few truths in life, and usually they pass you by. This time you are prepared for the beautiful insecurity that arose from this relationship. Between you and him. When he looks at you, you can feel it. The doubt, hesitation. Wondering if there's something better, thinking if maybe he's missing something great while he's with his something good. However, you believe you hold enough hope for the both of you, and as he takes your hand roughly...you oblige. And then you jump back and realize...you deserve more.
I had almost forgotten the inexplicable beauty that lies in the heart of honesty. The good in this boy can be seen through his eyes, those deep brown eyes that in the light of sun turn the sweetest shade of green. Truthfully, I can say that nothing I have felt before has come close to what he makes me feel every day.
Never has so much pain seared in me when someone looks at me with disappointment or anger like when he does...And never has so much joy filled me as it does when he glances at me with a smile. I can tell he is in love with me by the warm sound he makes when my lips touch his, or the way his fingers intertwine with mine so perfectly. His is the only touch that drips with desire as well as love and respect. So intimate, a wonderful security that never loses its utter exhilaration.
It breaks me softly when I see a twinge of doubt in his eye. However unusual, it exists every once in a while. That look of pain when he furrows his brow and his eyes get lost in midair, wishing above all not to be thinking what he's thinking. I have learned to read his every expression; his jaw clenches and his neck stiffens. He turns his head upwards because he dares not face me. I know what he feels. It is an aching so familiar now, but one overshadowed by the immense feeling of trust I have for him.
Never have I wanted something or someone so much that my nightmares taunt my every night; the fear of losing him is palpable. Whenever I awake with the foul taste of last night's nightmare I turn and he's next to me, asleep, dreaming intricate dreams of his own. I pray secretly that they are nothing but kind fantasies, so he is spared what I lived through in mine.
I have always had words that never had a listener. I love to speak, to be heard, to be appreciated. With him I know I have this and more. This wondrous boy knows me like no other. I notice how well he knows me whenever he tells me I am beautiful, those moments that I live for every day. I wait eagerly for the sound of those words. And whenever he forgets to tell me, I fear I have been overlooked or forgotten, I am horrified to be taken for granted. They are terrors of insecurity; the panic of never being enough. And the one true terrible thing about love is that it is an overwhelming combination of feeling safe and comfortable, yet always wanting to be more, enough for him to always be happy and never forget to tell you that you are beautiful to him. Perfect for him.
Deep inside I know I need not hear it every day, that he loves me, that he wants me and forever will. But still, the way I feel my heart sigh whenever I hear it-- there's no feeling quite, quite like that one.