You speak such pretty words and do far too many things. You’ve always loved hard. Too serious for your own good. That isn’t criticism. I’m glad you care for things so delicately. But it’s no wonder that when you found out about my feelings, you thought I wanted the same affection you offered to so many others. The ones you thought were right—maybe they were. But I didn’t want that. Because that isn’t us, and I don’t want to be stuck in the same category as the very ones I helped you get. I’m quite happy on my own. Returned feelings would be nice, though I’m past the point of hoping. I like what we have. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I simply want what I’ve always wanted. The one thing I desire from all those I allow close enough to damage me.
Happiness. Peace. Contentment. I want it all for you.
Bring a chair to this world I have the pleasure of calling mine. Smile and laugh at inside jokes that are too old and too stupid to still be laughed about. If you’d like, bring someone that you believe makes you shine your brightest. I wouldn’t mind. Truly. Just sit by my side, as you’ve done for the past how many years. Why do things need to change? The only adoration I expect from you is the sort you’ve been giving me all these years. So, allow me to offer you the same.
Because I still know you hate the cold. Because I still and will always have a lot of love to give. Much more than I know what to do with.
So, let me love you until eternity ends and the world begins again.
It isn’t as difficult as you make it out to be.