Dear Hilo,

More and more often, I wonder what you’re thinking about. Or how you feel. How do you feel? When I get anxious and already miss you before having to go to Missouri for five days, do you feel the same? Are you worried about me — about us?

I feel like that’s something we’re purposely not verbalizing. Maybe it’s all in my head. Either way, let me make this clear to you: I am Yours. There is nothing more I need to say than that. 

Ugh, please put tissues in your pocket for when you say goodbye to me at the terminal. You know how I can get. I’ll be wishing you were with me for every moment that I’m gone. I can’t wait to Skype it like the old days, though, haha. That’ll be lovely :D

Yours, Yours, Yours,
A

I wonder if I should even post about today. Maybe not yet. I’ll wait until Hilo gets home and we talk some more.

I didn’t want to tell him that phone call made me feel one million times better than where I was before. When he tells me, “It’s nothing, A, I promise. I’m sorry,” I have to believe it.

Of course, I’ve heard that before… before talking to him, I was entertaining the idea of how easily I’d fall for it if he just lied and ripped my heart right out and how pathetic I am. Of how fucking deceitful people are, and that I’m too forgiving.

But I have to believe he’s telling the truth. I have to believe that he wants this just as badly as I do. I want to work through things with him instead of giving up. I don’t want to lie. Dishonesty is no longer a part of the relationships I have. It’s so much more work and pain, but he’s worth it. He’s my everything.

And I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say my name that many times in a fifteen minute period. Maybe that’s another reason why I’m feeling so good.
It’s the little things, man.
The little fucking things.

I have to confess: I’m crying again. But out of relief. 
P.S. - Happy 300th post.