Maybe I shouldn't have told you.
But wouldn't hiding it have been as bad as lying?
You didn't look at me the same after.
When I see you again, I hope that's different.

I'm going to say a few things that I want.
You'll probably never bring them up to me, but at least you'll know.
One day I want a house, with at least one dog, and you.
I want for you to one day consider again what you asked me in the beginning.
To stay with you, for it to be you and me against the world.
You're the only person I ever want to wake up next to.

Someday, I may ask you to stay with me, and I want you to consider saying yes.
(Stay is the term I am deciding to use today, as opposed to the real word, because I think I've scared you enough for one day.)

I am glad we were able to talk today about what we both would have expected had today turned out differently.

But, since this is the holiday season, you should know I am thankful for you.
Because even though you looked at me different, your eyes didn't change.
And when you kissed me, that hadn't changed.
I understand I scared you, and that will take a bit to process, but I believe we're going to be just fine.
I believe there is nothing standing in our way of staying happy, for the long run.

I want to cook more.
And read more.
And crochet more.

So I think I will.