I miss you.
I miss having you in my bed, wrapped up in my arms and legs as much as I am wrapped in yours. I miss being able to feel your hands on my opposite shoulders, as they have made their way all around my back. Your arms are long. I remember you demonstrating this two falls ago. And now, even if I wanted to roll away from you, I wouldn’t be able to. I don’t, though.
I’m sorry that I didn’t kiss you. I was scared. I still am. Thank you for not pressing it.
Thank you for staying the next morning. Thank you for sitting by me, in the chair that makes me sneeze, and watching Bob’s Burgers. You’re the first one to do that. You’re the first one I would’ve wanted to do that, and I didn’t even need to ask.
I don’t know what will happen when I go back. I see all these different versions in my head of things I want to happen, some with you, some with you later. But I know that I want you back in my room of lights. I want to be nestled with you, I want to watch Sunny with you. I want to be able to cry in front of you, snot pouring from my nose, and not have to worry about being unattractive. I want to talk and be listened to, to be appreciated for my simple skin and words.
I love you.
I’m not sure how, but I know that I do. I’ve half thought it over the last year, and I know it now. I love you. And it sucks, because I’m not sure what can come of it, or what I want to come of it. But I love you. I’m not in love with you, but I love you. And I worry about you.
I miss being angry at you, being so frustrated that I don’t even understand how we could have ever interacted with each other. Sometimes, you’re insufferable. But I suffer through you, and you suffer through me, and we sit down together, and when we stand back up, we’re friends again. I don’t know how we do that. But we do.
Ton pied es mon pied, and your successes will be treasured and rejoiced by me. Let me into your life as much as you dare. I understand what I’ve done in the past, and I understand your fear. I understand why you wouldn’t trust me. I do not say that you should; I do not ask you to. It’s just something that I know you have to do, eventually. We’re XXXX and Khalilah. That’s what you said, once, and that’s what we still are. We’re XXXX and Khalilah, and I miss you, XXXX. I miss you.
And I love you.