“I love you” I repeat, every day like a mantra, and you know what? I’ve never felt in love before him, so maybe the lack of fireworks is just due to real life, and the fact that real life and teen romance novels never really align, as if they belong in an alternate dimension.
“I love you,” I moan, and he barely answers, and sex is nice, I think, it just doesn’t make me feel like I thought it would make me feel. Real life and erotic novels never really align, as if they belong in an alternate dimension.
“I love you,” I whisper, after he prompts it, after seeing my friend and her boyfriend say it so reverently, and maybe it’s me. it’s me who belongs in an alternate dimension.
“I love you” I say, and it’s supposed to feel more than what it feels like. There’s guilt in my stomach, and I don’t really know why.
“I love you,” I scream, and he still leaves anyway, says I’m lying and I never really loved him. I don’t belong here and the words claw at my skin. I want it all to stop.
“I love you,” she says, and my heart stops beating. She means it only as a friend, and I know it. I can’t help but feel warm.
“I love you,” I reply, and I mean it more than I ever did with him.
“I love you,” I cry, and she doesn’t walk away. She pulls me close and she kisses me. Her lips taste like heaven. There are fireworks.
“I love you,” I cry out, and everything feels so good. She makes me feel so good. Sex is heavenly, her body is heavenly, her soul is heavenly. I want to worship her.
“I love you,” I mumble with a ring on my finger. I belong in this dimension.