Your Hair

Giovanni,
I wonder if you see how much I miss you? How much I love you? Do you see it at all anymore? Lately it seems like you just don't care anymore, like you just want to get away from me when we're together, which hasn't been much for a while. You were going to come over Tuesday, but I said you couldn't because my dad would be home all week. Monday went the same, your dad took your truck and you were stranded at your abode. That was all well and good... But you never supplied an alternative. Its not all your fault, I never tried to think of anything else either, but, I mean... I guess I might have felt a little more secure in our relationship if I knew you even wanted to see me at all. Now I'm not blaming you, babe. I promise you that. This relationship is 50/50 and its my fault too. It just seemed like you didn't care... and that burned.
Your hair reminds me of last summer, when it was short like that. When everything was new and exciting and we'd do anything in our power to be near each other, hold hands, anything. And now look at us. We're.... Unhappy. Plain and simple. And you can't HONESTLY tell me that you're happy like this. If you do then you're a liar.
It was unnecessarily long pauses at stop signs to kiss, talking for hours in your car, making up words when we got nervous and tongue tied, all the nights we spent on dates that didn't always go the way you'd planned, and only pretending to watch movies while we talked and laughed and kissed. Those little things hat made me fall in love with you. Honestly, Gio, the moment we first kissed I knew I'd be in love with you. It took months and months to admit it, but I knew that we'd be in love. And even though I'm so opposed to that word sometimes, t he thought, scratch that, the knowledge that someone like you would love me made me SO happy. Every little bit of me was warmed by that sunset-pretty anticipation. I think that's what kept me going for so long. That night you said it was over, I've completely forgotten why I was upset in the first place, but ultimately, I was trying to push you away. Despite my opposition, I wanted you to tell me that you loved me, and I wanted to know you meant it like you were supposed to when you said it. The week or so before you broke up with me I was plagued. The thoughts that began our relationship weren't coming true. You hadn't said it, and I was starting to believe that you never would. Maybe you don't really, and maybe you never will. Maybe you only said it to appease me. I don't know. But I guess I was beginning to panic because I realized that NO ONE would love me. I mean, maybe "B" was right. I was lucky he loved me, because no one else would, so I pushed you away, not wanting to get hurt. Or started pushing anyways. I loved you, I had for a long while, and I knew you'd never love me back, I didn't want to get hurt again, and you were beginning to hurt me. Granted the breakup only lasted a short while, the freedom was bitter sweet. I loved you and wanted to keep you, but I wanted the both of us to be happy.
Your hair reminds me of happiness. All of these memories of us are dancing around in my head, in spastic and sometimes pretty circles, and I compare them to us now, and I wonder if you still care or if you're just going through the motions. This is the longest relationship either of us has been in. Are we staying out of comfort? I know I'm not. I LOVE you still. But do you want to stay together? Do you love me at all, Gio? If you do... Where are you? I miss you.