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You are who you are in life, and you either live that time trying to bend yourself to make other people happy, or… you don’t.
Not everything was about me, and it had taken me a long, long time to come to terms with that.
but honestly, the more people I met, the more I didn’t want to meet more.
I can do anything,
Ivan’s laugh, this lazy, bright thing that got on my nerves every time I heard it, filled the room.
“Want some candy, little girl?”
“You promise you won’t kill me?” He grinned. “I promise if I do, it’ll be quick and painless.” I did this to myself. “I’m going to take a picture of your license plate so if my body comes up missing, they’ll check your car for my DNA.” “I have bleach,” he returned immediately.
“There’s my Meatball,”
He’d made me hot chocolate.
Was I dying?
it. You need to remember what you’re capable of. What you are. You make every sacrifice worth it. You make every penny worth it. Do you understand me?”
“You and me, Meatball.
Closing my eyes once more, I felt his fingers go back to my hair and start stroking it away from my face and what had to be over his lap. It felt good, his thigh under my head, his fingers in my hair, and I couldn’t help the sigh I let out as he did it.
he sighed, shifting in his spot beside me, before slipping his arm over my shoulder unexpectedly. It wasn’t like I was going to complain. It was warm and heavy, and I liked the way it made me feel: cocooned. Safe. I liked it a lot.
“Nobody else is going to take as good care of you as I will.”
Something warm touched my mouth later, and I’d swear I heard, “Drink it, baby,” whispered to me. And I drank it all. Whatever the hell it was.
“Who did this?”
“You’re my business! So this is my business!”
“You. Matter. To. Me. You. I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you because of me,”
How could you not think I don’t care about you?
Every single minute of my life began to count. Measured, booked, and given away before the day had even started. But I loved it. Valued it. All those squeezed-in moments were appreciated and necessary for me.
“I would be.”
“I was a mistake, you know? My parents had already been on the rocks, and then my mom got pregnant and my dad stuck around for another couple of years, hoping things would get better, but they didn’t. And I wasn’t enough for him to stick around, so he left. He just fucking left and came back once a year, and my brothers and sisters loved him, and he loved them, and—”
“You’re enough. You will always be enough. Hear me?”
“I believe in you. In us. Regardless of what happens, you will always be the best partner I’ve ever had. You’ll always be the hardest working person I’ve ever known. There will only ever be you.”
“I will always have your back, you know that,”
We all did things we regretted; we all said things we regretted, and guilt was a crushing weight on a person’s soul.
Love to me was honesty. Being real. Knowing someone’s best and worst. Love was a push that said someone believed in you when you didn’t. Love was effort and time.
Hershey’s kiss.
Eight less weeks that I’d get to be around this man who meant the world to me.
I loved him.
I loved him.
That was the thing with us. We understood each other. We knew the length and depth of our trust and loyalty. And that meant more than any empty-ass words ever would.
I love you.
“If I had to choose anyone to help me bury a body, eat dinner with, or watch television with, it would be you, every time for everything.”
“I love you so much I spend all day with you, and it still isn’t enough for me,”
“Because I’m okay with you having ten other people be your favorite. But you’re always going to be my favorite person,” he finished. “Always. No matter what.”
It was his trustful smile. The one he shared with me. It was mine.
