You have places to be, people to see, yet you stay with me and just chat casually. You're beautiful in a way I cannot describe. I want to understand why you love me so much, I don't know why this feels so foreign to me. I should be used to this, to someone telling me they love me but it's all so strange.

I am not. Sad. I am not upset by this. It makes my heart feel warm and fuzzy, I like trusting you. I like being around you, I like loving you. You don't need to do the same, I'd rather love you and you never notice rather than you feeling obligated to tell me those words back.

I am afraid that you'll see this and think I'm strange. I'm not acting like myself. I'm not acting the way I normally do. I'm sorry.

And for a moment, a moment alone, I find myself rereading the words you sent me. The happy memories we made, the somber ones, the exciting ones, it feels like reading from a child's book. Sometimes I can't help but smiling at how adorable you are.

I am going to let this blow over and wait for this feeling to go away.