I wish you loved the way I do. That your brain noticed the things mine does, and says them poetically. The way you think of me would be like reading a book, and I would be described as your favorite character. You would notice the way I hold my coffee, and that I always make sure to tell them thank you. My breaths would be counted, and you would chuckle at how fast they are compared to yours. You would bask in my smile like a lizard on a rock, and make me laugh until I have to stop and catch my breath. You would notice how my hair waves differently and has a coppery shine in the sun. You would see how my cheeks flame when you touch me, or how my breath hitches when you lean in to kiss me. I wish you loved me so hard that the thought of being away creates a pit in your stomach that does not fade until I'm by your side again. My brain working overtime would no longer be one of my downfalls, but something you admire. The way I worry, the way I care, would not feel suffocating, but instead appreciated. It is simply unfair that I am destined to feel too much, and you not enough. I am still giving more than enough, but I fear the day I have nothing left to give. What will become of us, of me, when I have withered away? I do not think you will be able to give enough to save, to replenish our love so we can flourish again. I notice things about you, and I hold them close to me and cherish each moment I have with you because I am selfish. I am selfish because I want you, and I want you to want me. I notice how we still share mannerisms, even after months apart. I love to make you smile, even if it is fleeting. I no longer question but revel in our secret moments where I can love you unabashedly and it is seen by no one but you. You have seen everything, from the outside of me to the inside. There is no part of me I have not shared with you, even if I was scared. I do not doubt that you have hurt, but is it different when you have done it? Leaving cannot be easy, and for that I applaud you, but it was me. It was me you left behind like nothing ever mattered. You left me behind, with unfulfilling apologies and reasons that no one ever wants to hear. Drilling it through my thick skull that I am not the problem, I am enough, it was not me. If it was not me, then why do I bear the pain? Because that's how I love. I wish you loved the way I do, so I didn't have to.
