I was between a dream and reality, laying there in your bed curled up at your side. I could hear a faint calling, but I couldn’t respond. I wake up to your arms tightening around my body and pulling me into your chest. I could feel it rising and falling faster than usual. I managed to speak up.

Can you change of me leaving, and I am reminded once again that I am not alone in this. Using me and me losing you was a shared fear.

So I began, words of reassurance bored out of my mouth. I lightly rub her back and told you how much I loved you. I heard the crack on your voice when you told me you loved me, but I didn’t say anything.

Sometimes I forget that I’m not the only one with worries and fears. I forget that I need to be reassuring about how I feel about you. I forget that you have anxieties that don’t manifest and you picking at your nails, but another ways.

I don’t forget because I don’t care. I forget because I have never known what it has been like for someone to love me the way that you do, for someone to be afraid to lose me, for someone to treat me the way that you do and I think God to experience these little moments with you.