Yesterday morning was slow and romantic.
I woke up to the man I have liked for over a year; we were lucky enough to have been able to spend our two month anniversary together; it was my second time staying over at his apartment. It was only six o'clock in the morning when I was woken up by him sliding back under the covers. I mumbled a quick 'morning' before I slowly opened my eyes to him staring at me. I rubbed my eyes and smiled. He smiled back.
It was not long before we began to talk about our adventures the night before. I was so thrilled that he had a fun time with my friends. He was happy that he was finally able to meet them. Silence strung each small conversation together. He stared deep into my eyes and I felt that deep admiration from him. I blushed and looked at his freckled right shoulder.
He has always told me that he liked me (a lot) and that he was infatuated with me. I always knew I liked him more than any other man I have seen. And perhaps I had not realized the depth of our relationship and the impact we had on each other until he uttered "I am falling for you". When the words slowly slipped out between his lips, I stared right at him. I let out a nearly inaudible sigh. I was a bit lost in its context. I unsure of whether that was another way of saying I really like you. But when he clarified and added, "I am falling in love with you" my heart expanded and my mind drew a blank in my sleepy, slow state. I cleared my throat and kissed him--my way of letting him know how I felt. And I kissed him again and again and, again.
It wasn't until this morning did I realize that I, too, am falling in love with him.
The first time I met him, we had a great connection. I felt it. He knew it.
And after over a year of small run-ins, we have come to the strange and curious realization that we are in fact, in love.