I liked him. If we’re being honest, I still like him. I’m not saying that I felt sparks when he touched me, or that my heart skipped beats around him. But I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t scoot closer to him because he made me feel safe. And that I didn’t randomly wake up at night just to kiss his forehead. I’d be lying if I said he didn’t make me happy, and that I wasn’t gonna miss him. I’m not saying it was love, and I’m definitely not saying that this didn’t hurt me, but I will admit that he mattered-matters- to me.
Okay, maybe I don’t know if I love you. But I know a smile instantly goes on my face when I see your name. And my heart skips a beat when you look at me. And your laugh, my god, your laugh is music to my ears. And I could listen to you talk for hours and hours on end. I enjoy our deep conversations and pointless conversations a little too much. And my heart aches whenever I’m away from you. I don’t know. Is it love to just wanna be near you all the time? Is that what that is?