I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. Not that THAT matters. Because really, what matters is that I do. I’ve hidden it, because I was afraid. Of what you will say. Of what you will do. Of what will happen. Because loving you from a far was easier. Because I could control it.

Until I couldn’t.

Until that day you showed up and you were no longer just one person. And I know that being part of a plural you makes the singular you happy. And I am happy when you — singular you — are happy. But I wished that I was more brave before. Maybe, I would have made it an us if I was. And now that you are plural you, I’m no longer afraid. Because I love you. And you — plural you — deserve to be happy. And if you are happy with this person, then so am I. Or at least, I would try to be.

Just remember: whatever happens between the plural you, I love the singular you.

And I always will.

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