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You said you can never love anyone as intensely as you loved the person you passed from childhood to adulthood with - you were quoting someone. Some psychological study. Some philosopher. Some memory.
You said "never ever ever ever . . ."
It was melodramatic, all those evers, but you did it well. You're a star of the melodrama.
I smirked and I hope you didn't take it be disrespectful. I save that smirk for when all I want is to bawl, but I can't remember how anymore

It's too hard to cry sober.
It's too hard to cry without the glow of a silver screen.

The last time I cried I turned the music up as loud as it went and walked around in the dark until the tears came. That was nine months ago. I wish I could have admitted that I loved the person whom I passed from childhood to adulthood with; I wish she would admit it back.

...

and after you said that we talked about whether it was possible to love more than one person at once, and all I could think was: how could you possibly have such a huge capacity for that emotion? That would destroy me. It's so hard just to love you
"For love is a sort of excess of feeling and it is the nature of such only to be felt towards one person," Aristotle said, and yet Aristotle doesn't have the most erotic prose.

(...but everytime you kiss my neck I wish I could tell you that I love you too)

Have you ever really been in love? Has all my love gone uncommunicated?

I sat there as you idly played with my foot, probably not making the connection that that foot was attached to me
and I wanted to tell you a hundred stories, but I know I can't tell stories out loud so I sat silently - communicating nothing
by body or sound
afraid anything would betray all of me.
I love you
I tapped your foot back: I love you.

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