The first time I went to his place, it felt a lot like a typical dude-dwelling. I was there early enough that he hadn’t finished with work yet, and you know what he did? He put Bridgerton on the TV so I could watch something I was interested in while he finished work. I didn’t ask him to specifically put on Bridgerton, he knew that it was a show I enjoyed and he hasn’t seen it, so he put it on. He had me sit in his massaging recliner (which admittedly overwhelmed me at first [which freaked me out but I got a grip on it], but then I ended up enjoying) and gave me a blanket to cover up with while he finished work.

I sat back and looked between him and the TV many times, thinking that this was an incredibly sweet gesture.

The second time I went to his place, he had bought some candles and had them lit when I arrived. Candles do make the place more inviting. Again, I thought that was a really nice gesture. He asked me if I could even smell them (I could), haha… I noticed, for sure. I had brought him popcorn as a gift because the grocery store had been out of his favorite snack the previous time I was there, and they hadn’t gotten any in stock yet. He seemed really happy with that gesture. I caught myself a few times just sitting and staring at him, smiling and realizing how happy I was.

The third time at his place was more amazing, in my opinion. I was so much more comfortable than the previous two times I was there. He cooked for me on Saturday. He had told me he had something for me, and gave me a bag of plain m&ms (my favorite). So many freaking times I was just smiling like an idiot, telling myself how happy I was… I was definitely head-over-heels.

Then I had to go and burst the bubble.

I’ve been through a lot in my not-so-distant past. A lot of that is a dark cloud hanging over my head. It prohibits me from doing a lot of stuff that I want to do.

I had told myself not to get involved with anyone with kids. But THIS GUY, THIS situation felt miles different than anything I’d ever been a part of before.

This conversation was something I knew I had to do face-to-face. The fact that I only saw him every other weekend really put a strain on availability to talk. Sunday morning I sat down to talk to him about everything. I didn’t want to hide it anymore. He deserved to know. My feelings for him were growing exponentially and I knew if I didn’t tell him that very day, that very morning – I would be messing it up really badly when I *did* tell him.

And apparently I waited too late.

“I wish we had had this conversation sooner.”

Rips me to my core.

I love you and care about you and want the best for you. I am 100% your supporter and will do anything in my power to help you to succeed. I want to be your friend. I hope you still let me.

Thank you for the best six weeks I’ve had in quite a while.

I said I’m sorry but what for?
If I hurt you then I hate myself.
I don’t want to hate myself, I don’t want to hurt you.
Why do you choose your pain if you only knew how much I love you...