A little bit of repetition.

I want to believe I love pink peonies because of my own interest and not Blair Waldorf's, but I don't think I recognized them in my yard until season three. Either way I've been a fan ever since.
Yesterday my mother put beautiful blooms on the table and I thought of all the things that made me happy. You were on that list.

Last night I looked at you and my feet begged me to stay a few more memories. Glass slippers or not I know you would have let me. But we can't waste time sleeping through our numbered days.

Today I looked at you and saw a man I could hold onto. I looked at you but I didn't see much because the water in my eyes was moving my thoughts about tomorrow into yesterday and it only made the heartbreak worse. You gave me a token of appreciation and I thanked you with clammy hands and awkward hugs. You walked me out and I knew tomorrow could never be the end.

 I'm afraid to say I love you because I think I might mean it. and I'm awfully scared to find out.

You make orange juice feel fine around toothpaste and you make me believe in better people. I went around asking the world for second chances but you made it hard to screw up the first. The leaves in the backyard were only because I was nervous and I didn't know what to do with my hands. I waited for your approval and when your grandmother shook my hand I thought about the idea that two years is too long and we'll both be a different shade of sunburned when you get home.

I treated you badly sophomore year. I didn't believe my mom when she said the more awkward kids would grow up to be the ones you'd kill for. Sorry I wasn't a good friend. And Sorry I just called you awkward. (But, sorry, you were a little awkward.) Anyways,, I'd like to make up for it now. I'd like to tell you that you make Christmas lights shine in June and ice cream sound wonderful in December. You have me chasing bubbles like a 2nd grade summer afternoon and  bursting like we've been caught. You, my dear, are the only thing getting my curling iron turned on and my hair shampooed in the morning. I'm writing blog posts about the way tears filled my eyes when I thought about goodbye and how I refuse to think 10 days will end.
You walked me to the car and let the words fall out and I'm scared to mean it too. You've complimented my hair and my intelligence and my public speaking skills and the only time I've been tongue tied up at night was wondering how to find 'I Love You' in a sea of friendship and unspoken feelings.
I'm blinking and they're taking you and all the terrible things they did in the history of the world won't compare to how lonely the sunrise is without you. I'd like to hold your hand and tell you this dream is what we've been waiting for and take back all the times I ignored the inevitable and all the days I didn't run to you like I have been since the test of time washed away everyone but you. I've washed the walls so many times but you take more than water and soap to drive away. and I like that.

and I'm going to miss you.