I did what I always do, look back at old messages and notes I sent on old sites back when I was still in High School. Only this time, it was different.
Instead of looking at the chatplays between LS and I, I read all of the messages Love and I have shared. They still make me smile to this day, even more so than before. It makes me feel stupid that I didn't realize what we had sooner. That I gave him up so easily back then.
If I didn't, maybe I never would have realized how much he means to me. We never would've gotten this far, never would have moved in together. Maybe it still would have ended the same way. It doesn't matter anymore.
What matters is knowing how much I meant to him back then, and how that really didn't change. How fate found us, made us innocent lovers, brought someone else into the mix to change that, but made sure that somehow, someway, we found a way back into eachother's hearts, eachother's arms. I can't imagine leaving him. Can't imagine anything tearing us apart, no matter how crazy life is right now.
The fact that, as of July 10th, we will be celebrating our 2nd year still surprises me. Technically it's even longer than that. Technically, we've been emotionally together since we first started dating in 08(Even if I was too foolish to realize it back then.) It's so different, and yet, it's not.
In our first go, it started and ended on DeviantART. We were still kids, so we were more of the sappy cute innocent romantics. We never discussed intimacy or cybered, the extent was making out in real life and using the 'smooch' and 'hug' emoticons online. We barely hung out due to driving restrictions and school. I mean, more often than not we would spend time together outside of the school with our friends, and we went on groupdates with friends and my mom(being our chauffeur). On the days when we did hang out at my house, it was all innocent. Video games, him playing his guitar for me, cuddling on the floor. The making out only occured the last few times we hung out before the break up, but even then, it was practically minimal. No heavy touching. I don't even remember if we used tongue or not. The intimacy didn't matter to me back then. I honestly think I was still too scared to even want to think about it in real life.
So, like any horny confused teenager, I confided in cybering. But I'm pretty sure you all have read this in previous entries(Hah, like anyone will actually read this let alone my other posts.) That intimacy with my cybermate ended up taking it's toll on my real life relationship. Started confusing the lust for love. So we broke up. I shattered the poor kid's heart and I'm pretty sure something inside me died that night as well.
So, when we rekindled our love, it was the same, only different. We were older, so intimacy increased. Slowly, but it increased. He was the only one I wanted. Is the only one I want. We started going on more frequent dates, now that I had a job and money and my mom didn't mind driving us around. We'd spend hours cuddled next to eachother on the bed, just talking, and it was great. Simple. Still is. We took our relationship slow enough that we wouldn't end up crumbling again. We were in love. Are in love. Again, it's simple. Sweet. Perfect. Fate.
We've had a few arguments since we've moved in together about a month ago. Stress, not from us necessarily being together, but from the family in general. From home sickness, bitterness, my period. =w=' But we got through the trivial stuff. Nothing serious has came up, yet, but I'm sure we'll be alright if it does.
We've talked about our future already. Finding ourselves a place, maybe adopting a child, definitely having more pets. Maybe getting married, you never know, but not having a fancy wedding or any real celebration at all. Or something cute like getting engaged, having an engagement party, and then just staying engaged the rest of our lives. =w= But whatever would happen, it would be us. Him and I, together, until the end. I truly believe this, as does he.
And I smile upon our second year, and hold it close to my heart.
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