I know you don't like to read, so you probably won't read all of this. You probably won't even read this sentence. I need to write to you, because - well I don't know really. There are so many things that go unsaid, so many things I want to tell you, but we can't speak them aloud. I'm not sure why, it just seems to be this unwritten rule between us. I don't mind. I like that there are things that we know about each other without them having to be said.
One thing I don't know though, is how to make you feel better when you're down. You're so strong. You've been my rock for three years, I wish I could return the favour. I don't know what you want and that's hardest. When you're hurting, do you want me to just listen? Would you like me to try and fix it? Bring you hot chocolate and hold you close? I wish I knew. I think I do an okay job - but I can't be sure.
Lately I've been trying to build my relationships with my family. It's hard though, like any time that I have with them is time taken away from you. I know that this isn't always the case, but it feels that way. I justify it in my mind by reminding myself that you spend time with your family, and that I have no qualms about that - so I just assume you must feel the same and get on with it. You don't though. I know that now, that I need to be more careful about how I plan my time.
When I'm with you I don't worry about the things that I can't change. The fears that grip me when I'm in bed alone at night, the worries of my future, what I'll be, what I'll do - they dissipate when you're near. I don't think of much else other than the here and now and it's nice. It's a break from the constant burden that I carry when you're gone. The strain of not knowing what step to take, where it will lead, or even where I want to go. I'm a bit lost. You know this though. You're the only one that knows this, and I'm grateful for it. Even if this letter is never read, I know you know everything I'm saying. I'm not even sure why I'm writing this, but it feels like it needs to be written, and with each word I put on the page I feel slightly more at ease with where I am.
You think I'd get used to being apart. It seems silly to still hate going to an empty bed at night, wishing you were there to hold me in your arms. I feel safe when you're there. Warm. Now I lay and try to fall asleep as swiftly as possible, the scent of your side helping me forget I am alone. You're body is so big. You're long legs and arms swamp my tiny limbs. I like it like that, we're two puzzle pieces that fit comfortably together despite our vast size differences.
I can't wait to feel your hand in mine... or my hand in yours rather. The rough skin feels like home.
Loves. JP xx