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“What if I want it?”

I ask, knees shaking 

Hands clasped tight into fists. 

“What if I want you to love me? 

Not in some stupid, reckless way with an end and a beginning, but instead in that real way. The way that seeps through the depths of your bones and becomes a piece of you. It doesn’t need to end or begin because it has always been. It’s in the way you breathe, the way you think, the restlessness and peacefulness of your best and darkest dreams. It’s the little light on the worst days and the spark on the best ones. It’s so deeply ingrained in your soul that you know, even if we don’t make it, I’ll always be a part of you. I’ll always be with you, in some small way, that’s actually bigger than anything.

I want to be loved like that. 

Or, damnit, don’t love me at all.”