Bawwing Badly....

He loved me from the very beginning.
I could just see it in his eyes.
The way he looked at me from across the room. The way he'd make it a point to talk to me. And then how he'd call me every other day.

I knew he was perfect for me. His sense of humour, the way he treated me like a respectable being, our syncing interests....
But I always came up with excuses not to be with him.
"He's too far away" or "I have my whole life ahead of me to settle down..."
But he always remained right there in front of me.

Why have I hurt him so much?
Why did I use him for attention? Why did I get so drunk on Thanksgiving? Why did I then ruin his party the next day by not being there...?
Why did I push him away? Why did I go out secretly? How come I made him stay in City while I flirted around at parties?
WHY DID I DO WHAT I DID?

He has every reason under the sun to hate me. For hurting him. For ignoring him. For breaking his heart. But he doesn't hate me. He loves me. Now more than ever.
He is so AMAZING that he forgave me for every wrong I did him. Through all that pain, all the unnecessary suffering... he still wanted to be with me.
And then it became clear.
I am meant to be with him.

Nobody else has accepted me like he has. Nobody, not even my own family, has completely understood that I am who I am and to change that is to ruin something beautiful. He has made me love myself for the first time. He has made me realize that I am worth something.
HE LOVES ME FOR WHO AND WHAT I AM, NO MATTER WHAT.

I am so incredibly in love with him now.
I no longer have any doubt that I should be with this man.
Never before have I had someone mutually love me as much as I love him. And never before have I been so sure of myself about something.
This is love. And it's amazing.

I still worry that I'll be too clingy, that I'll become too possessive and jealous, or that I'll get sick of him if I spent too much time with him, or that he'll get sick of me because of my ridiculous emotions and attitudes. I also worry he's going to leave me or retaliate for what I've done to him....
But he worries about the same things. And more.
He worries about impressing me, about what to do for holidays, what to do for family events. He wants to prove himself to my mother that he is good enough for me. He wants to be there for me when I'm at my weakest and give me even more of a boost when I'm happy and strong.
And I want to do the very same for him.

My god... being away from him for weeks at a time is the most difficult and painful thing I have to go through. I do nothing but worry about him if he doesn't return my texts...
Like right now.
I started writing this because I just miss him so much.
I want him to know forever just how much I love him.
Will always love him.

And I really do mean it when I say "forever."

It was the end of the party, X o'clock in the morning. I was drunk, crying with my head on the table in front of two others playing cards - the host and the opponent. I couldn't hear anything, only my own sorrow about who knows what - my hate for cards, visiting, myself, everything, nothing. Whatever it was, I was crying as hard as I could with the least bit of sound, the others hadn't an idea of what was going on - perhaps even thought I had passed out. Who won the card game is anybody's guess, but the opponent subsequently left, leaving me and the host to an empty room.

"What's wrong?"
I moved to the floor where I cried more audibly, feeling more comfortable of doing so in front of the remaining audience. I didn't dare say anything, though, because I knew what was coming - I knew all my negativity was about to flow out and infect those in range, bringing my whole world down around me. He sat next to me on the floor not saying a word but trying to listen through the silence. He knew this wasn't the first time I'd been excessively upset - he knew I often fought the most unnecessary battles with myself, though he never criticized me for having done so.

Memory failing, I spilled my hatred toward my being in an incomprehensible commentary. I hated how I presented myself, I hated how I acted toward friends, I hated how my feelings controlled my bahaviour and that the fact my emotions were continuing to prove it to be true made me even more irate. I let every word out along with a waterfall of tears and snot. I also hated how ugly I looked when I cried.

But he still put his arm around me. "I don't care," he said in a most quiet and soothing voice. "Your flaws are what make you beautiful."