Catharsis | On Hold

35. i still love you

sometimes my friends ask if i still think about you the way lovers do, and i realize that i really did fall in love with you and not the mere idea of you. but yes, the unpalatable truth is, i still do. i love you, in the sense that if you hold my hand, the butterflies in my stomach will come fluttering back; that if you receive a promotion at work, i'll be happy for you; that if an accident befalls you, i'll cry for you and stay by your side; and if and when you find someone new, i'll be grateful.

you are the scar on my leg that has faded over a million times, the ketchup stain on my favorite shirt that has been scourged by hours of scrubbing. but in the same way, i'll always remember i've had a scar in that certain place, and i'll end up caressing the spot absentmindedly. other times, said stain leaves a tiny speck behind, one that no one but myself can notice. even if you know it's not there anymore, that it will never be there again, you still end up looking for it because you know it has always been there, and you're used to it being around.

i love you, honey; i still do.