Being with you was like the kind of heart pattering that you’re afraid will be audible to everyone in the vicinity.
It was sweaty palms, quick pulse, fast blinking, and explosive butterflies.
It was lingering, omnipresent. On my mind when I was sorting clothes at work, when I’d be walking under the street lights at 2 am, when I was making pinwheels for my roommates, when I wore those red pants you loved, or the navy sweater you adored, or when anyone would mention the Classic Doctor Who.
It was not being able to eat for the first week because the thought of you left me feeling too full of feelings to leave room for food.
It was feeling comfortable snuggling up on the couch and crying about the stupid things on my mind. It was french fries and ice cream on bad days. It was feeding you beef jerky when you were wearing gloves. It was feeling comfortable screaming along to Taylor Swift, because you thought it was funny.
It was loving that I could listen to Eminem with you, and listening to you keep up with him. It was not being afraid to talk to you for hours outside while I felt incredibly vulnerable. It was you starting to say “Super” in front of everything, the way that I do. It was letting me beat you at video games, with that goofy smile on your face. It was you covering my eyes when a shark would come on tv.
It was being okay with you seeing me in sweats and a big t-shirt.
It was constant quotes from “The Evil Dead” and “Army of Darkness”. It was falling asleep on your couch, woken up with a kiss. It was piggy back rides to the grocery store.
It was watching you leave my apartment huddled under my flower printed fleece blanket, because it was too cold outside. It was you surprise visiting me at work, and having lunch with me on my lunch breaks.
It was you being okay with me seeing you cry. It was your proclamation of love to everyone who could hear when I brought you ice cream.
It was everything that I could want in a relationship, everything that I thought love was.
However, it wasn’t love. It was so much less than it should’ve been.
Because it wasn’t really reciprocated. Because you didn’t love me.
Because at the end of it all, the day we met was the best day of my life… but for you, it was just a regular day.
Feature Image via Tumblr.