Love Letters - The Fuzzies

Sometimes, I can’t believe how I still got the fuzzies.

Why I still feel like shit when we’re in a fight. Why I still want you around all the time.

^Source

A couple of days ago, I was in bed alone. I heard footsteps outside. I thought it was you. A flash of adrenaline shot through my chest, it made me nervous. My heart rate increased and I got uncomfortable yet excited. Even though we were in a fight, I just wanted you with me. The footsteps faded away. It wasn’t you.

I love being with you. I love living with you.

I have no regrets of our fights. Because they also remind me of how much I love you, and how much I want you. It triggers a thought for a split second that we might not work out, or that you are finally done with me.

Then, when everything is good again, the fuzzies start flooding back. It’s a tingle in my chest and it increases sometimes when I kiss you, when I hug you. I literally feel fuzzy and I am not responsible for any giggles that might or might not escape my mouth.

I love your face, your hair. Your innocent, big eyes. I love your lips, so soft when I kiss them. And sticky when you put chapstick. I love your skin, your softness. Even your not so softness on a particular back area. I love your dancing, your gibberish. Your giggles, your smile. Oh - I can’t do without your smile. I love your happiness - it makes me happy too. I love your emotional endurance, but the occasional breakdowns a bit less. I love our lazy Sundays, our lazy everything. How I know you, how I can predict certain things, and sometimes I completely cannot. I love how you always keep intriguing me, and your unconditional care. How you need to call me just because I tell you my stomach hurts.

I love our dynamic, how people say we are cute together, how people would say they want to be like us.

I love the guy who told me that you love me. I love you too.