(again, I never thought I could feel so strongly for another man in my entire life. I was even honest with the New Yorker, and told him that Pooky was going to be imprinted on my heart forever. I had no idea I could feel this way again…until Mr. Big)

Am I in love with you? I really don’t know. I want to tell you that “I you” so many times throughout the day. If I do utter those words; I wonder what you will say. Will you look at me, stare deeply into my eyes, then caress my body to yours and whisper that you feel the same for me?

Or will you instinctively, almost immediately say, “I you, too”? I hope not. I want you to mean it, to feel it.

What if I would’ve told you that “I you” last night? Would you have been (sic) scared? Would the words, my feelings, freak you out?

I was contemplating saying it to you as I rested (sic) my head on your chest and you gently pulled me closer (as) you interrupted my thoughts with a long embrace (and said) “Brandy, I care about you so much.”

The words came out of nowhere, but I felt as though you had invaded my thoughts; my emotion for you. I think about you, about us, almost non-stop. I miss you when I’m not near you, even if you’re in the next room.

I think that you are beautiful. I’ve always watched you; your expressions. Those eyes, the brightest blue, and so cleverly set…deep, and revealing. The curve of your nose; sounds strange, but I love the way your nose is so perfectly shaped.

Your mischievious (sic) smile, makes my insides jump, my heart melt. The way your hand just interlocks w/ mine.

I don’t know what ‘love’ is to other people, and I’ve suppressed ever feeling it for someone (for so long) until it makes me question my own emotion. If I’m not in love w/ you, Pooky, I know that I’m falling. And all I want is for you to catch me and feel the same way about me.

Published by BrandysBrain

"Writing, to me; is simply thinking through my fingers." — Isaac Asimovz [This blog is mainly one that concerns my life with my furbabies; Princess Coco and Mr. Whiskey, 'Chiweenies.' You've been warned.] My blog is mostly one of "journal-esque" (diary) entries with few real names being used to protect the innocent or to keep those who are not so innocent from being tracked down.

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