So Maybe I Love You

So maybe I love you.

So maybe I didn’t exactly see this coming when I first agreed to meet up for a drink. So maybe I made a vow to not date seriously because the idea of spending time and energy on another human being felt like an obligation and I wasn’t looking for more responsibility. So maybe I told myself I’d go on one date. So maybe I thought I could say I tried and suddenly remembered why I prefer to spend my nights alone.

So maybe that didn’t happen.

So maybe we stayed at the bar until closing time. So maybe you walked me home and for the first time in recent memory, I didn’t want to say goodnight. So maybe I wanted to see you again in a way that sent my head spinning.

So maybe the second time you picked me up you kissed me like we’d already been dating for months and part of me didn’t know how to process something so natural. Maybe I’d been used to disinterest and ghosts and a never-ending lack of spark. So maybe we sparked. So maybe we sparked and lit the whole house on fire and I didn’t give a shit about finding the extinguisher.

So maybe I quickly realized this wasn’t something I ever had much of a say in. So maybe my heart was too stubborn not to find a space inside your chest. So maybe I stopped second guessing a feeling so good. So maybe I realized I care about you so deeply and there’s absolutely no going back.

So maybe I ignore my phone every time it rings but can’t wait to pick up when I see it’s you. So maybe your calls in the middle of the day just to see what I’m doing or how I’m feeling are a reminder that having someone who cares is not an obligation, it’s a gift. So maybe I gross myself out by calling this a gift. So maybe I keep thinking about joke gifts to get you. So maybe I think about you more than I think about myself and I’m pretty sure that’s the entire idea behind love.

So maybe I love you.

I mean, whatever. No big deal.

(It’s a big deal.)