I get it, I do. I do comprehend that you love me, and that you can’t stop loving me. You want me for yourself, and you would be willing to give yourself up to me in return. I wouldn’t mind calling you, talking to you. Maybe I could even kiss you.

I dream about you, too. I dreamt of you crying that night, the night I turned you away. I felt terrible, I did, but what was I to do? I figured you were upset; your face wouldn’t have gotten that red if you were alright. I could see myself being with you, but the thought still scares me.

I am sorry I bring up your faults so much. It is but my way to tell myself that I should not be with you. I have to convince myself that what I did was right. But now I am not so sure. Should I have turned you down? I have to look hard for your faults, and trust me, they are getting harder and harder to find.

I am no longer sure how I feel about you. You have started to get me thinking, and that’s one of the things I like about you. I want to know you from the inside out, to understand you. I am not sure why I take the time to learn everything about you. Unless… unless I do love you. I took your heart, and you are beginning to steal mine away once again.

Do you know why I try not to touch you? It’s because I clam up when you are that near. Your skin, your hand in mine, so soft, so fragile, I can’t take it. But it feels good, too. I like the rush, I like the way you smile when we are close. I like the way you tilt your head when you are confused, how you laugh at the littlest things. Perhaps I even love you for it. Perhaps I love you.

I’m not sure how to be a couple, but I know that it would be easier if it were with you. I know you wouldn’t rush me, because that is not your nature. I know you would let me go if I wanted to. If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it was never yours to begin with. Words you live by. Words I live by. I let you go two years ago, and you came back. Or was it I that came back to you? Or does it even matter?

When I become so sure that I know the real you, you throw me off yet again. I am trying so hard to know you, and I haven’t gotten any closer than I ever have. You are like a mystery novel with a red herring. It always shocks you at the end with a surprising twist. I tried to trick you into telling me yourself, but I hurt you instead. I am sorry. I am really, and truly sorry.

I want to be with you. I do, I realize that now. I love you. I want to be yours; I want you to be mine. I cannot stand the thought of being away from you anymore. I love you and all your quirks; for they are the things that make you interesting. I hope you will take me now, even though I left you alone that night, the night we should have been together. But I think you will still take me. Because I know how you feel. You are blindly in love with me, as I am with you.