I'm lying in my bed, thinking about you. You're supposed to come to this room in some few hours, ready to apologise.

I miss you.

I do.

I've missed you since you told me about... that. About how you didn't love me first. How, while I was obviously head over heels for you, you didn't even feel anything yet. How back then, on Valentine's day, when you first told me "I love you," it obviously didn't mean anything for you yet.

I'm still wondering... did you actually not feel anything or were you just not sure what your feelings were?

Because you say you were faking it but I saw it in your eyes, felt it in your laugh, tasted it on your lips, smelled it from your skin,... I never doubted your feelings towards me. Yes, I did ask about them for my mind making me insecure every once in a while, even multiple times a day, yet... I actually didn't think you didn't love me. Or worse - didn't even feel anything.

It was the very opposite, to be honest.

I never had someone look at me like that. With such passion, appreciation, honesty, and I dare to say... love, too. Yet you say it wasn't there.

And so I'm thinking and overthinking.

You told me: "Don't," but you've known since day one that I'm a terrible over thinker. After two weeks, you already knew the best how to calm me down when I started stressing and panicking over the smallest things. You'd put your hand on my thigh, look me in the eyes and tell me: "You're overthinking it. It's alright." And I'd calm down immediately.

You'd listen to me, you'd hug me close, go dancing with me and pick me up to give me a kiss and spin me around while crushing me in a tight hug at the end of the song. I was wearing my favourite dress, you were in your suit trousers and a button up shirt which made you look elegant. I borrowed you my new sunglasses just for the fun of it and the pink stained glass blending into purple just added some cuteness and softness to your features. I felt my heart beating mad fast, like it were about to jump out of my chest, my cheeks burning with a strong blush as I laughed in disbelief.

"I'm so happy for you," was what I thought back then.

And my heart races still.

I still blush at the memory of you calling me pretty for the first time. I remember how I was sat on top of you as an after effect of yet another one of our countless tickle fights. I leaned in closer, pecked your lips and called you beautiful. And you looked at me, your face lightly lit up by the lamp standing next to my bed, your eyes shining with thousands of stars, lips slightly parted as you whispered, with so much passion and undying honesty: "You're so pretty... But like... really pretty." And I panicked, blushed so hard that I feel my face getting hot again and afterwards buried my head in your shoulder as you were confused.

No one's ever complimented me like that. I'm used to being complimented on my looks but the way you'd do it has just always felt... different.

And hugging you also did. Just getting to breathe in your scent which is so mild yet lasts in my nose for so long. Feeling your muscles underneath my fingers, the way they move, relax, twitch,... Your breath on top of my head as I'd rest it atop of your chest.

I'd always feel protected when close to you.

Sitting next to you on the bus while you offered to help me with my things because I was busy that day and had a lot on me. I remember that I only handed you my phone and you let go of an amused breath as I started organising everything to keep it from falling. And then I'd lean onto your shoulder, stay as close to you as possible and my lips wouldn't stop smiling.

I recall so much more and wonder... Was it even real? Or were you just feeding me lies? And are you about to feed me some more of those dirty words of yours when you come through that door? Will you even bring me roses that you know I love so much yet gave them to me only once, to that after I'd asked you three times? Will I see actual regret in your eyes or will they be empty as they were that night a week ago when you told me the beginning has never been further from reality? Or will you mess up just like you did that night? Asking me for a hug while I'm drowning in tears, body shaking in pain and sorrow and such strong hiccups as I'm trying not to cuss you out and kick your ass out of this house in the middle of the night...

I just really hope we will be okay still.