I used to always ask what you wanted to drink with dinner.
I used to always pick up the cat when you opened the door, so he wouldn't get out.
I used to always compliment you on that ugly purple jacket you have.
I used to always get you Advil when you had a migraine.
I used to always spend hours in the garden with you.
I used to always read the fine print for you on forms so you wouldn't have to get your glasses.
I used to always get the mail for you.
I used to always bring in the groceries so you didn't have to.
But it doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter because I'm just not a friendly person.
I don't say "Hi" when you get home, and I don't say "Bye" when you leave.
I don't ask how your day was, and I use sarcasm a lot more than you would like.
Sometimes I snap, and we both know that's not "polite."
Mostly, I'm just way too scared to say I love you.
So I say it in my way.
My "I love you" 's are said through the music I play you in the car.
They're said through the books I loan you.
They're said when I ask what you would like to drink with dinner, and they're said when I pick up the cat so he can't escape as you open the door.
I wish we spoke the same language, because then you could see, I say "I love you," just in a different way.
I'm trying my hardest, not to lose hope, but I've stopped saying "I love you" so much, because you aren't quite catching on.
It doesn't matter to you because you can't see it, but I'm screaming "I love you," and it matters to me.
