Hello my dear.

You'll never ever write me a love letter, will you. And how we laughed at the very idea of you writing me poetry. Yet I'm always the one who can't resist making cards and writing incoherently on the big occasions, only to be teased by you.

I'm wondering about us, you know that? Wondering whether or not I really love you after seven months. Wondering how much this relationship means to you. Wondering whether we should stay together.

You know I've loved our time together, the crazily wonderful laughs, the quiet walks, just being together. I've enjoyed it all. But then you'll hurt me with a passing comment, and I won't know what to do or say. I know you said to tell you, but I can't. Not always. Because then I'll look like such a sensitive whiner. And I hate that.

You know I can't resist you. Yet the last time we were together, something had changed. I don't know what, but something did. I wonder whether you sensed it. I wonder how I would react if you broke up with me right now. I wonder how much I care. I wonder what happened.

[submitted 06/12/03]