So, hear me out.

I am watching you sleep.
Well, your back is turned to me so I am watching you from behind…your pinkish/beige panties resting partially between your beautiful ass.
My thoughts start off being perverted, but shift over to thinking about what love means to me. What it means when I whisper I love you while you are snore quietly. I love you. I say it like the words excuse the actions. Like I am trying to convince you that my love is worth more than you. More than respect, more than commitment. The truth is, I have no idea what my love means. What I do know about love is that it scares me. So much so that I am willing to be *just* the right amount of dishonest to keep you away from me, in a safe space where your fear of trust feels less like a full-time job and more like a security blanket, laid affectionately upon you during our coldest fights. I wonder what I am asking for when I request that you forgive me. What it is that I am prepared to work for when I say that I am willing to “do whatever it takes”, and if that means I am going to continue silencing myself in hopes that I never see you frowning in your slumber. You turn over and ask “why?” in a sleepy sadness, and I know that it is me that you are talking to in your dreams. I love you so much that it hurts me to even think about sticking to my own expectations, to stand by my convictions. The truth is, a lie feels much easier than the reality.

Right now, I don’t know what direction we are going in. I know that you are processing yourself to forgive my actions. To go on loving me despite my recent infidelity, my past indiscretions. You are holding on to me, knowing the truth is that the love is real, and the real lie could be that our relationship isn’t…

Sleep peacefully, I will be here when you wake.

 

All my love,

_K

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