Before

I loved him before. Before he was the way he is now. Before he was super lovey dovey and before he was actually happy. I loved him even though he didn't "love" me. Or at least never said it.

I remember when I told him I loved him the first time. We were driving back from his parent's house and he knew something was on my mind cause I was just sitting there deep in thought. When he asked me what was wrong and I said, "Nothing, I'm fine." It wasn't a lie. I was fine. More than fine. I finally knew or realized I guess that I love the guy I am with. He didn't believe me though. He never does. He badgered me until I finally told him.

I remember being really nervous. This was a huge step and we hadn't been dating that long. My stomach was all in knots when I muttered, "Nothing is wrong. I just... I finally realized that I love you."

This didn't surprise him. I had told him that I was "falling for him" a few days earlier so he simply replied "I know. You told me that. I said I was falling for you too."

His response made me even more nervous. He didn't understand what I meant so I had to make it even more clear. Bare my heart way more than I had been. "No. Like I actually love you." I had been staring at my lap. Probably picking at my fingernails in the nervous, habity way that I do. When I said that though, I looked up at him and he was staring straight ahead looking at the road. "You don't have to say it back if you don't love me too. I just wanted you to know. I won't feel bad if you don't feel the same. I'd rather you not say it then say it and not mean it."

I believe his response was something along the lines of "Well thanks for telling me." we rode back to Bloomington in silence.

However, a few days later, as we were lying in bed (him on one side, me on the other, not touching) he rolled over. I was still awake and he had been asleep for an hour or so. He grabbed me around the waist, pulled me to him and said, "I love you." then he kissed me for a really long time.

When we came up for air, I said, "What brought that on?" and he replied "I just woke up and realized that I wanted to say it." I can't express how happy I was.

So I loved him before. Before we broke up. Before we got back together. Now... I love him even more than I did then. Maybe our break up did the same thing to me that it did to him. He loves me more and tells and shows it to me everyday and I feel the same. Maybe it just took a little bit of separation to make us realize what we didn't wanna be missing out on for the rest of our lives. I no longer feel nervous when telling him that I love him even if I do say it far too often. Probably because I know it'll always be followed with an "I love you too" no matter how many times I had said it.