E,
I don't think you understand just how tightly you have me wrapped around your fingers.
"Ily"
That's all it took, Em.
Three letters. Out of context, that's all you had to say - no, text, you didn't even have to say it, all it took was a text - before I started thinking that everything would work out for the better.
Three letters, E, and you've got me believing that the world might just let us survive.
I'm terrified. I'm honestly terrified of letting you destroy me.
I'm terrified of having to watch that someone break you all over again, I'm terrified of watching you let her back into your life in my place.
And yet here I am, not twenty-four hours after I worried that I couldn't trust you, entirely at your disposal. Maybe it's just me being jealous or dramatic. But I think that we might just make it after all.
When you first started doing this, I got worried. I got worried the "ily" was a goodbye of sorts, that you were relapsing into the dark or that you were leaving me for that someone. I got worried that something terrible was happening and you were saying "ily" as a formality, a mere polite goodbye.
And I still worry every time you send one of those three-letter texts, sure. But I always worry about you, so this is no different.
The thing is, now I trust you, and now, once the worry fades, I'm just happy.
Happy to finally have a friend who cares about me.
Happy to finally be happy.
Here's my way of thought on this, my darling 'four-year-old'.
We weren't even in a conversation.
We hadn't even spoken for a half hour or so (a record for us, honestly) and I just get three stupid letters that brightened my whole day.
For you to send that, you must've been thinking of me, or missing me, or something. Which means I'm not the only one putting effort into this friendship.
Which means that you're still around. Everyone else may have left me, but you? You take the time to text me "ily" with no context in the middle of the night.
Sure, you've done this weekly for a month or so by now, but I can't stop smiling every single time you send me those three-letter-texts.
It's the dumbest, sappiest, most ridiculous thing that's ever made me happy. It's not even three words, just three letters.
But it's enough for me.
Thank you for being you.
Thank you for loving me.
Thank you for being patient when I couldn't trust you.
Thank you for being perfect enough that I could learn to trust you, that I'm learning to trust you.
Ily.


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