Because you hate it when I write to you--you think I have piles of expectations. You think I'll write some crazy free-association and then rant at you for not understanding the way my mind works. You worry that you'll seem stupid if you ask me for clarifications.
Because we're not like that.
Because this is not an epic love, and we function just fine when we're separated, and we share everything when we get back together. There are no feelings spilling out of my ears to put down on paper. Hell, most of the time we don't even say it.
Because I wouldn't know what to say in a love letter to you anyway. Hi, it's grey out. You live 150 feet away. I could walk up and shout to your window. You know it's grey out. You know how I spend my days. I could tell you that I wish I was with you, but that would only be marginally true. (I need to do these grad school applications, and with you around I wouldn't be able to)
Because you know it all already. You know I love you. You know things are just better when we're together, but they're fine when we're not. You know my favorite place to kiss you. (between your shoulder blades) You know that I don't strain for metaphors or comparisons with us. We're the blandest of bland, and stronger for it.
(You know what I know that you don't? That you won't be nervous when you propose.)
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