emails from me

email twenty-four - unsent.

to: lane
from: aspen
subject: what is love?

email twenty-five - unsent.

a few days ago, conner asked me and cathy jay what i thought the definition of love was, and how you know you're in love.

cathy jay answered real easy. but she wears floral skirts the swish when she turns too fast and pastel shirts with flat shoes, and her whole outfit always matches perfectly. love should be easy for girls like cathy jay. [i know that horribly judgmental of me, but i'm talking to you, and i know i can be honest with you.]

her answer was in fact what i expected from her.

she said that love is when your stomach is filled to the brim with nonexistent butterflies that flap their rainbowed wings against the sides of your belly. it's when you never get sick of talking to them, and always enjoy their company. she said that love was when you trusted them, and all your silly secrets that you don't share with anyone else. when you let them meet your mom and dad, even though they'll probably embarrass you with baby photos and tell you how much they talk about you. she said that you'll just know you're in love, even if you pretend you don't. she said it would be easy with them, and you could talk about anything, say anything, do anything, because you're comfortable with them. she said fireworks with erupt when you kiss them and all will feel right in the world.

and i guess that's all fine and dandy, and i guess that very well may be love.

for some people.

not for me though.

not for you either, i know.

so i told conner to give me a rain check, and i've been thinking about it for the past three days.

i figure i might as well give it to you first, just so i can get my thoughts down.

first, my thoughts on cathy jay's definition;

i can tell you right now lane warner, i have honestly never felt any butterflies in my tummy in regards to you, but all of my being is indescribably in love with you. no, i never felt butterflies, but i did feel like something was pushing on all of my skin trying to get out from the inside whenever i was [am] in close proximity to you.
as for never getting sick of talking to them, i can tell you right now that does not aply to us whatsoever. i can't even count on two handfuls of fingers the amount of times i had no desire whatsoever to talk to you. and we both know sometimes [a lot], i get on your last nerve, and you're not in the mood to talk to me. we don't always enjoy each other's company. and that's okay. that's normal, [i think.]
she was right about trust, because i trust you with my whole heart and soul. and we do know many of our secrets, [not all. but maybe someday.] but i can sure as hell tell you, none of our secrets are silly.
next, i've never even met your dad, and i didn't get any stories of how infatuated you are with me when we visited your mom's grave, [not that i didn't get plenty from ivy.] you've also never met my mother, [all in good reason], and all conversation with my dad you've had, have included annoyed grunts and scoffs and across-the-room glares.
as for the part where you just know you're in love, that part may be true. i mean i continuously denied it whenever the the thought sprouted in my mind, but honestly, i knew, and then began writing you. and i don't know if you knew. i mean, at first, you didn't. but i don't know when you found it out.
and damn if anything's easy with you. you're stubborn and annoying and too cocky and quite rude sometimes. i'm a million times as stubborn and i don't like to listen and very obnoxious. nothing's easy with us. but love is fighting for each other, even if it's hard as hell.
and we both know we can't tell each other everything, and sometimes things are very uncomfortable. you won't gel your hair in front of me [on the very off chance you put the sticky substance in.] and i refuse to shave my legs in front of you. i can't say the word sex in front of you without my face turning scarlet and you still hesitate to take your boxers off, like you're waiting for me to change my mind. comfort and not being embarrassed is a delicacy that we don't possess.
and i will flat out tell you, fireworks are not what my mouth and body are feeling when your lips mesh with mine.
and all is not right with the world.
if it was, i'd be with you right now.
if all was right in the world,
love would be enough.
but it's not,
so we're not.

i think love is when your chest starts to ache because you just feel so much. when your fingers start to shake when you think about seeing them.
i think it's when they button your buttons and tie your shoelaces. when they zip the back of your dress when they can't reach it, or when they tie your tie, because you're absolutely dreadful at doing it yourself.
i think love is when you grin into the kiss because i can't help but giggling when you brush your fingertips against the soft of my stomach.
i think it's when, no matter how much you hate them, you can't help but love them.
when your hands find each other while you're in bed, and supposedly in a fight, because you can't help but be connected somehow.
when your eyes hurt because you've just rolled your eyes a billion times because you've been with them for an hour.
when their voice starts to give you a headache because they just. won't. stop. talking. about absolutely nothing. yet you still want them next to you.
i think love is carrying them inside when they fell asleep in the car.
i think it's not caring about their past and their fucked up families.

i don't really know how to describe love.

i know i'm in love with you,
i know i love you.

but it's hard, because it's different for everyone.

but one thing i'm sure of, is,

love is fighting for each other, even if it's hard as hell.

-me

••

a/n

i'm not deleting guys.

i wrote this chapter around the same time i wrote the one about clove, so before i even started writing the beginning.

i had to find a way to work it into the story after i changed the ending. (i changed the ending when i had about half or three/fourths of the story posted.)

this is one of the chapters i wish i could have the original line spacing, but hey, beggars can't be choosers.

oh and i don't think i'll be uploading 'kisses,' after all, sorry!