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i don't want to write another piece about love.

but the truth of the matter is, i can think of nothing but love. i'm uninspired by everything except love. love is the only thing that is of any importance to me right now.

quite honestly, i's frightening to me that it's possible to love someone. it especially scares the shit out of me that it's possible to love someone so much and that it's possible that they won't love you back. and frankly, i am scared to death that i'm never going to get over this. i'm so scared that i'm going to spend the rest of my life thinking of ways to win you over, waiting for you to change your mind.

i don't want to write another piece about you.

but how in the world can i avoid that? you're stuck on replay in my head. i'm caught up in remembering you, overanalyzing the things you say, reveling in dim remembrances of long past feelings. i can't even wash the dishes without thinking about you. i don't know how to operate without you on my mind.

i really didn't want to do this. i didn't want to sit here thinking of how to say the things i feel about you, but these words and thoughts spill out of my mouth and eyes and fingers every chance they get. i'm overflowing with love, with you, with love for you. if i could get to my rooftop, i would shout from it that i adore you. if i didn't get carsick on winding mountain passes, i would go to the highest peak on the highest mountain and yell at the top of my lungs until my words echoed all the way to you, saying forever "i'm in love with you, i'm in love with you, i'm in love with you"

i would whisper it to you as you lay in my arms, if you'd let me.

i love you.