It's the little things.

Like how I know he’s listening.

Little snippets of conversations I’ve had had a million times that I don’t even think twice about that he brings up days, even weeks later. It’s about everything I never think about that pertains to me. “So you don’t bother to check if it’s from the front end of the cow or the back? You just don’t eat beef at all?” “Oh, your sister’s boyfriend, the one you don’t really like all that much?” I guess it’s not that odd when it’s just him, just this page, just thoughts of him. But when you look at how repetition works best with most teenage boys, it’s just one more little thing I adore about him. It happens every day, and every day it surprises me. Every time it happens, I am thrown completely off guard and my stomach does a flip and my breath catches in my throat, just like in the books. It feels wonderful. A smile creeps on to my face that I have no control over (not that I’d have any desire to get rid of it). When he sees me smiling about stuff that’s not funny to people outside my own mind, his face twists into an almost imperceptible, curious, what-are-you-thinking-about-you-silly-kid smile.

Dear God, I love his smile. His laugh, too. Want to know why? Because neither one is very pretty. In all honesty, his laugh is more of a cough, and his smile doesn’t quite fit right on his face. But I feel like so often it’s him putting the smiles on everyone else’s faces. It doesn’t seem fair. But oh, when he laughs, I can't help but smile. It sounds corny or whatever, but it really happens. And I don’t know why.

I don’t think I love him. Not that way, at least. Not yet.

When we read The Giver, the characters didn’t say “I love you” to each other. Instead, they said, “I appreciate you.” I think that’s appropriate here. I appreciate him. I think others do too, but it still seems like he’s just not getting everything he deserves. Then again, it doesn’t really matter to him. I don’t think he notices the little things.

What if, one day when I’m married, married to him maybe, I find this entry and can’t for the life of me remember who it’s about? I seriously doubt I’ll ever forget him, and that’s in a sincere cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die sort of way. Even if I do forget him by some odd fluke, I’m not putting his name down for both of our sakes. If I can’t remember him, then I deserve to forget.

Self, if you’re reading this, shame on you. If you’re married shame, shame on you. If you’re married to him, stop reading now. But it he’s reading over your shoulder and doesn’t know it’s all about him…job well done.