this is yours. you know who you are.

I’ve said before that there’s no real way to explain how I feel about him. As a writer, it hurts my pride to say that I cannot possibly summon the words needed to accurately describe my feelings. When it comes to my feelings towards him, I can’t really put a name to the feelings that come into action. It’s like the file cabinet in my mind reserved especially for him has a lock on it that I just can’t find the key to. It’s almost as if I’m allowed to put thoughts into that file cabinet, but I’ve yet to be privileged enough to take them back out. Or maybe it’s more of I can’t figure out how to take them back out. Either way they’re stuck in my mind. However, I don’t give up that easily. I’ve been carefully searching for the key to the file cabinet reserved for him. So I guess the next question is where do I find this key? I suppose I might be able to find it when I look at his picture and selfishly wish I could jump into the picture and be frozen in time with him. Or maybe I can find it when he holds me; it’s at the very moment when he’s holding me that I feel most amazing. Although he doesn’t know it, when he wraps his arms around me and tells me he could hold me forever, I feel so safe and so content. Then again, maybe I can find this key in his eyes. I could stare at those beautiful eyes and get lost in them. Maybe the key to the file cabinet is found in our late night talks when we get serious and tell each other how we feel. I love those nights. I love sitting in the dark and just hearing his voice. Maybe the now infamous key is found in our inside jokes; our brilliantly weird inside jokes that to everyone else makes absolutely no sense. Or maybe it’s found in his randomness or his smile. Maybe I can find the key in something as small as those random texts that he sends; those texts always make me smile. Maybe the key is the fact that I can’t imagine my life without him. Or maybe it’s in the fact that I love how he made me realize what it means to truly like someone. Or maybe it’s in the fact that he understands what no one else does. Or maybe it’s in the fact that I want him to be the one who makes me realize what love is.

I don’t know if I’ve found the key to his file cabinet or not. Maybe I already have it, but I haven’t realized it. But whatever happens, I will always have his file cabinet stored away in my mind, awaiting its chance to be opened.