I’m in love with this guy reading at the lake.

Pretty sure he’s reading. Got a glance of his phone, and there was an audiobook on it.

Technically not weird, reading a book at the lake.

If he had brought a book with him, like a physical book, it’d be totally normal. But he’s just sitting there, staring out at the wide, wide horizon, tapping his foot gently and smiling like he’s the happiest he’s ever been.

Not really sure why I fell in love with this guy. It just kind of happened.

I looked over, and immediately, in my head: Love this guy.

That happened to me once, and it was so nice and strange. Someone hit me with a: “Love what you’ve got going on here.”

I was biking very slowly on the sidewalk, and I rolled by this guy talking to his friend. I was staring at them, partially to make sure I didn’t get too close or run them over or anything. But the one guy— button down shirt opened to a v-neck. Might have even had one of those chains and an undershirt. I could be making that up, but that’s how I remember him.

I mean, he was pulling it off. He looked great, but I would never. It’s just such a big move - all that hair product, all those buttons unbuttoned. Confident.

Anyway, he stopped talking to his friend, looked right at me, said something like: “Okay yeah - doing good! Love it.” I remember there being an awkward amount of words. Halfway through I got nervous that I was missing something: should I be paying attention? Are we talking here, or are you just sort of saying hello.

It was great, to be so quickly affirmed like that. “Love it” for just being the way I was, and not because of anything, really.

Which is sort of what you said to me last night, when I asked you why you loved me. It’s a ridiculous question to ask someone you love, especially if you’ve been telling each other I love you for a while. Sort of has “prove it” energy. Not great.

But I think it’s helpful sometimes to re-establish what it really means every now and then. I say I love you, you say you love me. But what do you mean?

It’s like the colors thing. I call blue, blue and you green, green. But how do I know my blue is your blue and your green is my green? How do I know you love me like I love you? Do I even want that?

When I asked you why you loved me, or how you knew you loved me, you said that sometimes you see me talking to someone and you’re just happy that I’m yours. Which is so nice. And so - way better than what I told you.

I told you that I’d be defensive if someone was like, making fun of you or something. That’s how I know. Or if you got hurt, I’d get super protective. Is that a good reason?