February 7, 2028
Here we are. Can you believe we've made it this far? I know we've always made false promises about how we'd be infinite, and I know we've had countless bouts of drama that threatened it, but we're still going strong. You and I started dating on February 11, 2024. (Yeah, I remember. I have to, because a certain someone always forgets our date and our anniversaries. But I'm not saying any names.) (It was you.) Throughout three horrendous break ups, two other exes, and broken friendships, we managed to make it. And now I'm writing this to you a few days before our four year anniversary (not counting the times we were broken up).
It's almost that time again, Freen. I've said those three words a variation of times, for hundreds of different reasons, using several methods. I've spelled it out on your skin, whispered sweet nothings in your ear in the middle of the night, written you things that flaunt my exemplary vocabulary, sang you heartfelt songs with lyrics that were unoriginal - but still held the same sentiment, and a bunch of other things I don't feel like writing. So, I don't have to say it. I'm going to attempt to get through this without saying it, but I'll probably lose my own challenge.
Four years down the road, I find it funny how far we've come. I remember the way you used to say it before you truly meant it. I was so cautious and I felt so shitty because I was already deeply in love with you then, but you still loved me in a friendly platonic way. Now, I don't hesitate to say it back. I know you do. You've proved it to me time and time again. You say it without words. As the cliche as the saying goes, actions certainly do speak louder than words. But you say it loud and clear every time. Together, we slowly figured out that expressing love can be in different forms.
We've stopped wearing the jewelry. I used to pretty much regard taking off my necklace as a sin, but I've come to learn that our commitment isn't measured by material things. You were so worked up the day I came home to your dorm and it wasn't around my neck, but when I told you what I thought, you took off your charm bracelet. I don't know, I saw that as another sunset for us. Years later, and I'm still freakishly obsessed with sunsets.
We don't touch each other as much now, but it's because we don't need to. You radiate as much love when you're alone on one end of the couch while I'm perched on the other as you do when I'm in your arms and vice versa. You don't have to keep your arm around my waist or your hand in mine when we go out anymore, because people can automatically sense that there's something between us. I think we used to feel like we had to use touch to convey the way we felt, but we don't. We don't have to make a show of it. That's another sunset.
It's funny, though. Do you remember how scared we used to be? You used to be terrified to admit to dating me. I used to take it personally, but I understand now. I can't really hold it against you because of that whole fiasco I did that caused us to break up the first time. We both have our moments. We're idiots. But I'm glad you're my idiot and that you chose me to be yours, amongst everyone else.
You never cease to amaze me. You're still equally as beautiful now as the first time I laid eyes on you. I don't know how you manage to do it, but you seem to get more attractive every day. You've still got the same galaxies in your eyes that made my heart implode all of those years ago. Nothing has changed about your gorgeous smile or those mesmerizing lips of yours. Your body still works wonders for me too. I really think you could let yourself go in every aspect and still be the most beautiful woman I've ever been blessed enough to -
"Bec!" Freen called from across their dorms, interrupting Becky's flow.
And now you're calling me. Always nagging, aren't you?
"Yeah?" Becky yelled back. Their neighbors probably hated them. They were always shouting at one another if they were in their respective rooms, because who had time to actually get up and walk there?
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Journals [FreenBecky]
FanfictionIt's gone. Many people find their escape through writing. That was true for Rebecca. She wrote in her journal daily, without fail, about her best friend and long-time crush, Freen Sarocha Chankimha. But when her journal ends up in the wrong hands, s...