When I sit here and listen to the thunder rolling lazily across the sky, I can't help but think of you. I think of the storms last summer, when we curled up together on your couch and clung to each other in the early greylight of morning, squealing delightedly at each flash of lightning, and each clap of thunder that made the house shake.
I try to tell you sometimes. How I feel about you.
You say you're unloved. It's not true. I love you more than anyone else. I would die for you. I want to hold you until you stop crying, until you look up at me again and whisper the words I have waited to hear for so long.
You say you're unwanted. It's not true. I want you. I want to be here for you and I want to kiss you when you're sad so you can be happy again. I want to be the reason you want to get up in the morning. I want you to be with me always, even if I can never tell you or show you the extent to which I feel these things.
You say you're unneeded. It's not true. I need you. I need you to talk to me when I'm down and give me the rush of happiness like you always do. I need you to lean against me in public places and make that small noise of contentment when you see people staring at us. I need you to let me mean something to you. I need you to love me. I need you to keep a place in your heart open for me, no matter what anyone says or does. I need you to be my friend, my love.
As you can see... You were wrong.
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