I’m laying here in bed, feeling it. This incredible desire to say it came over me. I knew I shouldnt. But I had to talk to him. It’s late. I shouldn’t call. I’ll wake him probably. I just want to hear his voice. No. I want him here. In my arms, next to me in bed. I want to wake up next to him everyday forever and always. I’ll text him, that’s close enough. I can’t say it. He’ll freak, it’s too soon. 5 months. He still has open wounds from before me. I settle instead for “I was thinkig about you and hoping you had a good day.” he starts to tell me about his day. My heart is racing. I don’t want to hear about your day. That’s not why I, not what I meant to say. He says he’s going to sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow. I text back “night babe” and then whisper into my pillow “I love you.”
My heart is still racing.
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