The Moment

I don’t know when it will be, but I think in a few months you’ll ask me “when did you know?” 

And I’ll say…

I knew when you showed up at the bar, the very first night, after I ditched our first date.

I knew when you said I threw up on you, and you hugged me, and whispered it was cute. 

But really, I knew because I get butterflies thinking about you & me.

I imagined it would be something like this, but this is better & way worse & terrifying & dizzying & overwhelming. 

I knew when you cried, and I wanted to hold you tighter and never let you go.

I knew when you sent me a ridiculous photo of yourself, and I thought it was cute.

I knew when you asked me what was wrong, and I actually told you.

I knew when I wanted to go down on you and I didn’t really care if we had sex afterwards. 

I knew when we stayed up until 3 am the first few nights you stayed over, and I felt like there was still so much more I could know about you. 

I knew because there was never a moment I doubted it. I knew because there was no question in my mind. I knew because I knew. 


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