Simple thoughts

A confession of love?

To be very honest, I don't think I love you. But I love the things you do. If you didn't do those, you wouldn't be you. That's why I said I love you. It's all these little things.

I love how you can use the word "love" so easily. "Like" is rather shallow, "love" feels too extreme to me, yet you can make it sound as though it is something you feel towards everything.

Did you know, when I first saw that word directed to me, the tumultuous feelings I felt? You were shy, not wanting to voice it out, but bolder on paper. I was jealous, I couldn't do that. Not even on paper.

It was because I was afraid, afraid that the opposite party would feel the same way; expectant of me. I had expected something more, something I knew I wouldn't get, at least, not from you.

But never mind that. You are never going to see this anyways. I've only read that note once. I didn't want to fall further. I know what it's like, to have your thoughts completely consumed by a single person.

It's tiring.

But still satisfying. It's three am and all you can think of is that person. You smile, feeling silly.

It's a wonderful feeling, bittersweet, slight ache.