He’s too wonderful. He’s too everything and here I am, this idiot that can’t see past his deep brown eyes. It doesn’t matter what we do, if we’re alone together even the silence is nice; although he likes to make random comments to break it. Sometimes I think it’s just because he likes to hear me laugh. Or maybe it’s the way my face looks in a smile, because every time I catch him staring at it. But he keeps doing this thing, and maybe it’s me who starts it and I just don’t realize it. We get comfortable like we’ve known each other forever, and then we bring up exes, or not so past “relations”, or idiotic things. He brought her up and I hunched as I followed him down the trail. It’s not jealousy, it’s more that she had him, that she had done something that he found worthy of his time. But what? And of course I brought him up… I suppose that we both spoke lowly of those pasts. I suppose we didn’t love them the way we had thought. And maybe that’s a good thing.

Maybe we could be better if I could just find the words to ask you if that’s what was going on here. Because we both seem so sad, you and I. And sometimes I feel so jaded and unloveable, and then you look at me and wash it away.

We could live forever amongst the trees.

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