I love you. This is an incontestable fact. You talk about how you want a real, strong connection with me, one where we talk a lot and are involved in each others lives, and I want to cry. Because I never thought I would hear you say that so bluntly, because I didn't think I was that important to you, because as capable as I am of giving and receiving love from so many people, you will always be special. I absolutely believe there are people we meet that are meant for us. As best friends, as guardians, as lovers, as the homes we build. I don't know which you are yet. I know what I want you to be- I can hardly see past what I want you to be, when half of my heart is still jagged and sobbing and in your unknowing hands. But I love you enough that if you would have me as a friend, I would smile a smile of porcelain shards that look like perfect white teeth to make you happy. I would dance the dance I've learned of the masks, letting you see my face but not enough to see me. I would sit next to you, and you would be the sweetest, sharpest thing my heart could hold, and I would hold you all the same.
Because I love you. That is my incontestable fact.