I do love him. Very much. My life without him would become a void, simply put. I would not exist if it weren't for him.

It's just the fact that I am coming to the realization that I am done looking for the love of my life. Although I don't know when it'll happen, I'm pseudo counting down the days until I get an engagement ring on my finger. I looked down at my promise ring in the shower yesterday and gasped, finally becoming fully aware of what and how quickly it had happened.

In all honesty I think I'm scared. More than anything I'm scared to hurt this wonderful man who would give me everything if I asked for it. A relationship is a two way street. Love can't come from a single side, nor does it. There are days though where I look at him and think that he could never love me to the extent of how much I love him. The very next day I will catch myself thinking 'Wow, he does love me. I'm not sure if my love for him could even compete against the love he has for me.'

One thing is glaringly obvious on both our behalves. If this relationship goes sour, there is no more trying. No more searching. This is it, and I think this places unnecessary stress on both of us. At this point both him and I are so afraid of losing our other half that if even the slightest bump disrupts us, we go into hyper-sentive-slash-defensive-slash-anger-slash-depression mode. I'm tired of this mode. I'm tired of having to watch my step. I'm not doing anything wrong, but neither is he. We both just need to relax.

We both just need to get laid for that matter.

While doing my depressive float earlier tonight (when I wander aimlessly from room to room, nitpicking at the flaws in the paintjob or dust in the corner), I mulled all of these things over. I was leaning in the bathroom doorway when I let out a pained gasp and clentched my left hand over my right forearm. It felt warm and it throbbed in unison with my heart.

I was afraid to lower my eyes to see what might be wrong. I expected blood, and lots of it. I closed my eyes, expecting the worst and hearing the words of disappointment come from his mouth. Slowly I removed my hand to see the damage that I had surely dealt to myself.

Nothing.

There wasn't a drop of blood to be seen. No scratches or bruises. The pain vanished as quickly as it had come. I wonder if I'm getting phantom nerve pain in my arms.

I love you, sir, and there is not a day that goes by that I wouldn't rather be at your side than anywhere else in the world. You are my soulmate, the love of my life, mi mitad de naranja, and I will never let you go.