17. (Lessons.)

As we go through years, and age, and become adults (to an extent, at least), there are lessons we learn.

Don't drink orange juice after brushing your teeth. Even though heroes say bad words, it's not okay for you to use them. Salt tastes good by itself, but it can hurt your tongue if you have too much of it. Don't spit into the wind. Girls have cooties. You can't turn left onto Main if you're coming from the south side of the street. The speedometer isn't always right. Everyone's afraid of cops. Liquor tastes bad only at first. Papercuts hurt. Stand on your own two feet. And while Love is blind, she's also a total bitch--and fickle, to boot.

The words 'never' and 'forever' don't mean a lot.

A broken heart mends with time--or with affection.

Absence makes the heart grow stronger.

She's beautiful, caring, understanding, and I've got a lot in common with her. Problem is, I'm doing something to myself that I promised myself I would do again (again).

And honestly? She's worth the fear.

I'm a coward. I've been hurt time and time again and time and time again I've set myself up for it. Some days I can't help but feel like I'm doing it again.

But I don't care. I love her, and if I can bring her some kind of happiness before we fall, then that's good enough for me.

I'm not a fatalist, though. I have hope--for the first time in months--that things will work out for the better this time. This time. What makes it different from the other times?

Not much. I'd be doing a disservice to the people I care about, though they've hurt me in their various ways, if I were to say that she's somehow better than them, more worthy in some manner. That is not, of course, to say that she's not amazing. I can't help but feel, right now, that I'm surrounded by absolutely outstanding people. I'm just lucky in that.

And she's fantastic. Fantastic! I want so bad to say how she's the most amazing person ever and that I'm infinitely happy now that I've found her.

But that... that would be a lie. Am I happy? Yes. She she amazing? Yes. Don't let my inability to shower you with large-scale compliments make you feel like I think badly of you in any way, sweetheart. Far from it. I think the world of you.

Yeah, I think the world of her! I love her! I said it, you read it, fucking deal with it. I don't care what anyone thinks about it, I don't care what anyone has to say, and I don't care about all the silly little inane questions that are sure to come up one day. I just don't care. I love her that much.

I love you, sweetheart. Please don't ever let my general craziness drive that fact from your mind.