The conversations on the tram got me thinking...
I am actually ridiculously lucky. And I know it sounds sappy and I know it sounds cliché but I'm so lucky to be with him. How did I end up with someone who can actually keep me happy for such long periods of time? My god, we've already lasted so long and yet I still can't imagine things ending. We just sort of fit. I'm comfortable with him and, I think, he's comfortable with me. Even if we weren't together like that I think we'd still be good friends. All of my friends love him and they have reason to because when it all boils down to nothing he is a proper decent guy.
He tries to keep me happy and he cares when I have coughing fits or when he falls asleep before he has the chance to text me back at night.
His own blog is literate and funny and shows off his likeability and yet he still says he likes mine more (I don't know why).
And when we're just lazing around on his sofa, talking about music, watching tv, planting kisses on each others noses, I just have never felt so at ease with someone like this.
I'm not going to say it on here because this is public and we don't say this stuff in public but he understand when I say / \ this much.
I usually hate being close to people.
And I'm vulnerable.
And I'm shit scared.
But it doesn't even matter. I forget about it with him.
It is stupid to keep thinking of the end of things. How long its been is really strange for me but really it's just time.
As long as I'm happy and as long as he's happy, it's all good.
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