Cheesepuffs

The love I feel for you is horrible.
no, not horrible.
torturous, endearing, and long,
those are the words I would use to describe my love.
my love?
yes love I'm not sure if I even know what love is,
but whatever it is I think I feel it for you, here's why:
My heart skips a beat when I see you.
A beat
. A beat
. I smile so hard my cheeks start to hurt when you talk to me
and I blush like crazy whenever I hear you say my name.
You don't even notice though.
Your so convinced that what we have is platonic that you don't even realize how much I yearn for you.
I yearn for you.
I yearn for you.
I get it, okay?
I'm fat. I didn't ask for that.
Somehow the pills that were supposed to make me better forced me to gain weight.
Gain Weight.
Gain Weight.
I'm sorry.
I gained 50 pounds in a total of 4 months because of those meds. It's hideous, I know. I get it.
My day feels like a big pound.
A migraine.
A migraine.
A migraine.
I get migraines, and a day long one is not a treat.
Every second, a new pain arises in my mind.
My ADHD causes me to constantly tap. wether its my hands, or my feet or my leg. I can't stop moving, even if I wanted to.
My anxiety causes my hands to be shaky, they tremble around as if they were the ground during an earthquake.

My depression causes me to lose my mind, to think dark thought and to wanna hurt myself.
Hurt myself.
Hurt myself.
The reason I bring this up is because, when you're around the pounding stops, when you're around I my tapping fades to nothingness, when your around my hands calm down, when your around the last thing on my mind is hurting myself. I feel a place of serenity that is so relaxing.
Relaxing.
Relaxing.
I can't even describe it but you help me reach it.
Reach it.
Reach it.
This is why I can't stop loving you.
Loving you.
Loving you.
I'm a fat person, one of my eyes doesn't open as much as the other, I have boobs that I don't want, I cut myself, I'm a girl who wants to be a boy, I have panic attacks, I'm hispanic raised by white parents, and I love you. I'm a mess but through it all I believe that that's what I feel for you.
Now I'd never actually tell you that.
But at least I know you care about me. Care about me enough to look sad when you see new cuts on my arm. Care about me enough to tell me I'm cute when I call myself ugly. Care about me enough to let me be your friend. Care about me enough to tease me and know that I know your joking. Care about me enough to understand a problem. Care
. You care.
You care.
That is why I think it is love, what I feel for you is love.
Love.
Love