I've written this letter so many times. Over and over and over it plays out in my head. I've never sent it, never let anyone read it. You will probably never read it, you don't need to read it.

You're everything to me. You are my heart, you are my soul, you are the dreams I wake up from with a smile.

It's so hard to say these things... it's so hard to admit to them. You love me, and that is amazing, astonishing.

I don't know why I am doing this right now, I don't know why I need this finalization so much right now, but I do. I sat outside on my steps and smoked another cigarette, writing this in my head. I came inside and made myself a peanut butter and banana sandwich (what, no cheese?!) and realized that no matter how many times I say it in my head, it needs to be written forever. It needs to be impressed forever upon my mind and my soul, and perhaps the minds and souls of whoever else reads it.

So now I am sitting at my computer, with your name on my lips and your image etched on my screen.

I have to let go of all the things that are keeping me from trusting you completely. I need to let myself trust you the way that I already do. This is closure, but not with you. It is closure within myself.

I've been hurt before, by people who say things like "you're my sun and moon, my goddess, my angel" I've been hurt by people who can kiss with such a sweet poison that it tears the heart out, melts the soul. Pain is omnipresent, I suppose. But if that is true, then you've been hurt too. If that applies to all, then it is not only my heart that has scars and bandages and wounds that sometimes open and bleed.

I find myself worrying, sometimes, late at night sitting up with my journal and a cup of tea. I think things that do not deserve to be thought. I think of the way you might wake up and realize that I am not right for you, or that you will fall madly in love with someone else. I do not like those thoughts.

I think of other things though... I think of the way you look at me sometimes. The way you tell me you're happy. That I'm right for you, as you are right for me.

This is my heart, offered up on a silver platter. This is my soul and my mind and the essence of my being. This is the only offering that I can make, the only offering that can ever be made.

You are my sun and my moon, and the stars that make the night sky beautiful. You are my breath and heartbeat. And though I know I could survive without you, I know equally that the survival would be nothing but survival. You make a part of me complete.

I cannot say that I will stop worrying, or that I will stop sitting up late at night with my journal and my cup of tea, contemplating life without you. Maybe I thrive on the fear, I don't think that is so improbable.

I can, though, say that I will always be here for you. And I can say that I trust you to always be here for me. I am going to stop making you into all the people who have hurt me in the past, I am going to let you be yourself, even in my mind. That is, perhaps, the hardest thing to do. I am letting down my defenses, and it feels like the safest, scariest thing in the world.

I love you, always.