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This diary entry is written by SwingingInTheRain. ( View all entries )
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Sweet things.Category: (general)
Monday, 28 November 2011
07:22:37 AM (GMT)
I miss the little sweet things you used to do. 

One time, you got mad at me for not loving myself. Like really mad... 
And so I sent you a text saying something along the lines of I won't argue when you
compliment me, I'll love myself, I love myself for you,  blah blah blah. 
And you messaged me back 
I'll only argue your compliments *sometimes. I'll only feel sad *when I miss you.
I'll only cry *when I have to. I'll love myself ** because I'm lovable. 
He corrected all my lines to make them perfectly imperfect. 
So that he could tell me I was pretty. 
And that he missed me. 
And that he loved me. 

And silly me is sitting here crying me eyes out now because I miss him. 
It's been four months I thought I was done with this. 
I only meant for it to show what I want.
And it ended up showing me what I can't have... 

I remember being on skype with you Late at night and we were talking, and suddenly
you stopped. 
I look at you and we were quiet for a second and then you paused and were like "my
bad...I was staring at you're eyes. They're so beautiful"
It kind of made my night. 

And that other time when I woke up one morning to see a message from you in my inbox
and it read 
"well, it's three in the morning and I can't really think strait but I wanted to send
you a sweet message talking about how great you are and how I love and admire you
and... Yeah."
It made me grin so wide and I didn't think id ever meet a boy quite like you. 

And to go with your geeky super sweet side you were kind of well, sexy. You had this
kind of chuckle you would do whenever I did or said something you found to be cute.
You did it alot when you started go get tired and well, it was sexy. It got under my
skin, that laugh of yours. You knew how to kiss, and make all the right moves at the
right times...
And you knew the difference between "don't do that..." and "stop." you knew when to
push the limits and when not to. 
You knew when to hold my hand, and how to cuddle. 
Oh the cuddling. 

And my face stings because it's so dry from the face wash, and the tears are salty
and... It doesn't hurt nearly as much a my broken heart.

I'm too young for this.  


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