A letter to the imaginary lover.

Dear Love,
I know you are right in front of me, but I’m afraid I’ll lose you. Not because I think you don’t love me enough, or because we’re no longer watching chick flicks together just because I feel like, but because when you smile while looking at your phone- My heart stops. I wonder if it’s just a joke popping up in the school time group or a new girl’s knocking your door.
I can’t stop thinking about a million ways I could tell you how much you mean to me, and then I can’t stop but think of a trillion ways I could screw it all up. I know you aren’t blind, you can see I love you, you can sense it, but you’re letting me fall for you over and over again, and this makes me wonder if you feel about me as well. No, I am not talking about the kind of love who’d show up in a Limo with a huge bouquet and a diamond ring, but the kind where you read a book in your bed and I keep my head in your lap to write my blogs.
How hard is it for you to understand that I simply can’t stay without your presence in my life?
I wonder, if one day I send this letter to you while I’m miles apart and you read it alone, would you still smile such that your lips curl up towards your left cheek or would you rather call me and say “I’ve always been waiting for you to say it first.”
Ever mine.
Ever thine.
Ever ours.

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