The stupid life I have

laughing

I hate my laugh.
At least that's what i think.
I don't like it.
I do laugh, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I whish I didn't laugh, so I wouldn't seem as stupid as I do sometimes.

The call, which I received in the evening caught me off guard.
Usually I'm kinda worried when people call me so late.
But with you it was different.
I didn't worry.
I was excited.
To hear your voice, and when I heard your laugh, I was even happier.
I like your laugh, and the way your eyes get smaller when you laugh.
I like the wrinkles around your eyes and mouth, and your hands, that rush up in the air and grab mine to squeeze them so tightly that I have to shake them off.
And I like the way you make me smile, because I don't hate my laugh anymore. Or I just don't care. When I'm with you, I don't care.
I don't care about my laugh, about the way I jump up and down when I'm really happy and the way I scream inaudible noices when I'm too happy to say anything that makes sense.

When we talked for over an hour and the muscles of my face were hurting from all the smiling and laughing, I felt nothing but joy.
And when I told you that I loved you, you said I was mean.
You said I was mean because I didn't let you say it first.
You said it was unbelievable that I got to say it first every time.
But what you didn't know, was that the reason I said it first all the time was, that I was scared of losing the people before I could say it to them.
That I said it so soon, because I wanted them to know that I loved them, so they knew someone loved them.
Cause sometimes I felt like no one loved me, and I wanted them to know that I did.
Love them.
Because I do.

When you hung up, for a slight second, I was scared that I'd said too much. But then I remembered what you told me and I wasn't scared anymore.
You told me that you loved me.
And I love you too.
God I love you so much it makes me sick sometimes.
It makes me sick that I can't touch you, that I can't hold you.
Even though I could, if I wasn't so scared.
Of losing you, of making you scared of me.
Because I love you, and maybe that's the problem.