Very short post.

We were talking about the book American Gods. He was astounded I had read it.

“I’m gonna say something,” he said seriously, “and it’s big. You’d better a hold of something.”

Well he’s a bit of a smartass, so I thought, yeah right. “I’m sitting down,” I replied. Which I was, sitting on the porch.

“Okay, here it is: I’m in love with you.”

Just like that, he took my breath away. I was suddenly glad I was sitting. I knew what I should say, but I wasn’t ready yet. I just kind of sat there in stunned silence.

“Wow,” I said. “That was unexpected.”

“I know you have to digest it for a while,” he said. “Words are very important to you. When you say it, I know you’ll mean it.”

Thing is, I knew it for a while now. Because we spent so much time saying every word but “love”. So I knew that he was aware of how I felt.

We talked for a few more minutes. Then we were getting off the phone.

“I love you,” he said again.

“I love you, too,” I said nervously.

I’ve said those words before, and it ended disastrously. I’m a little afraid of them. But this is different, as I later explained to him, by orders of magnitude. This feels predestined in so many ways.

I wanted him to know I actually meant it, not just saying I love him because he said it. I wanted him to feel special too. So I texted it to him.

He said it first, but I texted it first. And he made it Facebook official.

I feel like there’s a lot to live up to now, but I’m also very freed. It’s interesting. I am his, and yet it frees me up, this belonging. You’d think it would be stifling but it’s not.

I just wanted you to know.