I don’t love him in the conventional teenaged way. Or maybe just the conventional way.

Or maybe I do, but most people just don’t talk about this part, so I don’t know it’s conventional.

I don’t want to go and dates and take loads of kissing pictures and be by his side constantly. Those things would be nice, but that’s not what I’m longing for.

I want the quiet bits in between. the lying on his chest in the dark moments. The whispers in bed, my lips close to his ear moments. I want his fingers up my spine and my hands in his hair. I want gentle and rough and that love that doesn’t feel so much like love as it does like my cup runneth over. That soul filling contentment that brings so much peace.

that is what I want, and it’s a damn shame that this dance ended before it could properly begin.