Love, J.T.

As I sit here with too much beer too drink, my love has cried herself to sleep behind me. I wish I knew why she did. Radiohead is playing on the computer while I write this. "All I Need" played while she laid there crying. That is supposed be our song.

She laid there crying, not knowing why. I hold her until she falls asleep. I still lay there holding her. I almost fall asleep, thinking, why? Why is she crying? While she cries I tell her, "I love you Bay-bes." She cries harder. Does she cry because I say that? I feel she doesn't like me saying that.

Before she started crying, she kept on saying that she loves me. Is this the vodka (I bought her) saying that? Or is it her saying that?

People say that alcohol makes people say what the really "feel."

She said, "I love jooce," earlier today.

It really confuses me when she says that.

I say, "I love jooce too." Does that mean she loves me?

Sunday is Valentines Day and our two month anniversary. I got my shift covered at work. I want to take her to a fancy dinner to show her that I love her. I feel like this is the only way to show her I love her. I want to buy her everything.

But, I'll have this night in the back of my head. When she says she "loves me", in her drunken slur, does she really mean it?

She asks me, "How much do you love me?"

I say, "As much as humanly possible."

She says, "I only love you this much." Holding her pointer finger and her thumb one inch apart.

I sit here writing this blog off the top of my head while I have a PBR sitting next to me. I hope she doesn't get mad at me for writing this. I am drunk.

I drink too much.

I love her. I don't like to see her cry.

I've seen her cry once before. Her best friend came to visit her. My girlfriend and her friend came and hung out with my "friends." Everything was going great. She goes to the bathroom. I follow. She comes out. She comes out and gives me a peck (Me? I'm blushing inside. I don't think she knew that). She and her friend smoke weed. They leave.

I am drunk. She calls me. She's crying. I tell her that I am coming over. I get a ride. I get into her apartment complex. I see her sitting in her car. I knock on the window and she unlocks the door. We start talking about why she's sad. I get the car keys from her friend so I could turn on the heater. It was fucking cold in there.

I go back down and we talk more. She cries more. I want to cry too. I want her to be happy. We talk and talk and talk. We fall asleep. I wake up early, to her shivering, and I give her my jacket. I lay there shivering... happy. She's warm.

I don't know why I am writing this. I just hope she is happy being with me. She told me this morning that one of her ex-boyfriends woke her up once and she started crying. Because she didn't want to see him. I hope she didn't cry tonight because I told her that I love her.

I drink more. I write more. I ramble more. The more I stop to to think. The more I want to stop thinking. The more I want to know why. The more I float away from reality. The more I want her to love me.

Love,
J.T.