"Do you believe me if I say I love you?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"You used to say no."
"People change. Time moves. Life turns around."
"Do you like this current turn of life?"
"Maybe."
"So you're not sure?"
"I don't want to jinx it by saying that it's good. But I don't want to say it's bad because it clearly is not. Well, clearly I'm not good at celebrating what you meant to me and you deserve more."
"Why so?"
"Because the words are there but I've been having a hard time to find a way for them to get through my lungs without me wanting to bury myself under the deep layers of white sands because I can not stand a face of your eyes looking at me when I do it."
"You said you've changed."
"Yes."
"Clearly you have but you also haven't."
"Because words have always flown around you like water running down the fall and this garden of your thoughts and feelings overwhelmed you like clouds on an almost rainy day."
"..."
"See, I could speak like you too. And not because it's funny, but because I've been listening to you longer than I thought I have."
"And they way words spill around from your mouth, it's lovely."
And the way your face lits up when you look at me. And they way your eyes save some glimse and hope furthering your dreams. Even the way you're sad is lovely, in its own sad way. You show me how anger is human how madness can be traced and met how raw a human being can be.
Don't say you're sorry you fell in love with me. Don't say you're sorry I fall in love with you.
I never regret that.
(Maybe once, when you mistakenly brought an expired milk and I have to go to the ER but anyway, good times).
