Maybe this is too much


Relationships are tricky things, you have people who say “You are awesome”s as if they love you, thoughts that rage through your mind of their faces and consume you day and night, and every a blue moon you have that one guy, who is a friend of the boy you like, who tells you. “That he’s going to cut you cause he’s like him” but you can’t entirely believe him because you heard that he has been jealous of your relationship with his friend.

Lately I don’t know what to think anymore, if the guy that I started to go out with and began to honestly like is really falling for me or not? And sure I can go on the internet and search up ways of how I can know if he loves me without asking him. But I find that writing down my feelings is more appropriate and truthful than any so called written love article out there.

The boy I am now seeing is different from everyone else, he is funny, sweet, warm, and very touchy. Every time we meet he kisses me, he holds me close to his side when we walk or cross the street and he is protective of me, and worries for me. He is kind, caring and determined. And yet very young in words. And though he has never said a mature word to me (not that it is in a inappropriate way). I have recently when I gaze into his eyes, can’t help finding something there. Sometimes I fear it, cause I think back to that guy’s statement (“He’ll cut you off”) and yet I also can’t help blushing at his gaze.

His warm brown eyes stare into my own without flinching, his smile simply laying across his face. And his arms clutching around me so tightly, as if he is afraid that I might disappear. With every word he speaks, “You are so sexy”, “Your so awesome”, “Christine”, “My chocolate bunny”. I hear something else. It as if he’s holding himself back so much so that his very words alludes to something else.

One night, I heard the softest faint of relieved feelings (I love you) that I believed that I might’ve dreamed it up. Too afraid to speak them back to him. I kept these words to myself, wondering if he had spoken them into existence or not.

His friends happily greet me with joy, they speak of me and talk to me as if I was already part of their group. And they often speak as if they had heard about me first hand from my own lips.

I hope my heart isn’t wrong, I hope my thoughts are not confusing me. I hope he is real… I desire for these thoughts, to not be too much.


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