SLOW UPDATES
❝ 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝. ❞
People don't know they have someone special until they're gone. That's what happened to Sage Morales and Sawyer Iglesia.
After their fifth grade culmination, Sage...
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・❥・
Present Day
I'm feeling a mixture of all types of emotions after Sawyer finishes telling me his story.
Sadness, anger, sympathy, relief, and most of all... love.
Because here, in this moment, I feel more love for Sawyer than I've ever felt for anyone else.
The amount of bravery and trust he must have in me to tell me something so personal makes me feel like I want to be brave too.
I know the timing and the circumstances aren't perfect, but I think that makes it so much more special. Sawyer and I aren't perfect, we have flaws, we have hiccups, we have doubt, but past all that we have each other. And I want Sawyer to have me. My heart included.
At first I was scared of him not saying it back, but I'm not scared anymore. I don't need him to say it back because I have enough love to go around for the two of us. I just want him to know.
I want him to know that he has meaning, and worth, and that he matters. He matters to me, more than he knows and I want him to know. I need him to know. Now.
I wipe away my stray tears and then I softly ask, "Can I give you a hug?"
Sawyer doesn't even respond, just reaches over and pulls me into his lap, tightly wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my chest.
"I'm so proud of you, baby, and I want to thank you for trusting me with your story." I lean down and kiss his temple.
"Thank you for being there and listening to me tell it."
"I'm always gonna be here to listen to your stories, no matter how serious or stupid they are, I want to hear all of them. Wanna know why?"
He lifts his head from my chest and meets my eyes, a little smile spreading across his lips. "Why?"
"Because you're special, and you matter, and because I..." I make sure we're looking into each others' eyes before I say, "I love you."
Sawyers body locks up. His spine straightens, his arms go stiff and he looks at me, his eyes as wide as saucers.
"What?" he asks, his voice hoarse yet breathless.
I smile shyly. "You heard me."
"I-I didn't. Say it again, I promise I'll hear it this time."
