Brother's Keeper

You don’t owe me forever right now, but God, I hope you’ll give it to me willingly some day.

I whisper every word she needs to hear and I need to say. I tell her how beautiful she is. I tell her she amazes me. I make sure she knows she is the most precious person in the world to me. I make sure she understands what losing her means to me and how impossible it is to imagine my life without her.

I want him to reach out to me, but I know he can't. He can't for all the same reasons I can't. It hurts too much. It's like an alcoholic taking a sip of wine; the pleasure of the indulgence would be immediate and swift, but the aftermath would be devastating.

She told me once that when she was with me she felt like the beautiful woman she never thought she'd be. I can't imagine what could ever make her think she wasn't beautiful enough to anyone, least of all me. She's the beautiful one. The most beautiful one in the world to me.

There is no denying I’m once again complete in her presence. This is my place. I belong to her and my place is by her side. And the absoluteness of that statement is profound, and it begs to rewrite my life.

I just… can’t be apart from you.

You deserve a man who will take you and keep you, not a man who will have you and leave you. I can’t be the man who does that to you.

She’s beautiful—broken and battered, still the most beautiful woman in the world to me—the only woman in the world for me.

Is the bed comfortable?” Please say no. Just give me any reason to get you in my bed.

But every night I end up fighting my despair the second I lay my head on my pillow. It is then I miss her the most -- when my brain stops moving for the day and the memories of her are allowed to flood my mind, causing agonizing grief.

I wanted nothing more than for her to feel me – my desire for her, the pleasure I could give her, my obsession for her.

Be happy and well and forget me fast.

I don’t care if nobody else thinks I’m beautiful, because in this moment, I know Logan does. Eat your heart out Amy’s of the world…

Thought about sleeping in my bed, but decided I'd rather be in yours. Hope you don't mind...Have a great week." "So long as you leave your pajamas in your own room. They have no place in mine. Sleep tight.

I blush as that word pops into my mind again, "relationship." Is this what a relationship feels like, I wonder -- close, comfortable, warm, safe, thrilling, erotic, and smelling deliciously of pancakes...

I've made love to her -- finally and wholly, I've had her in every way I've wanted and needed. And I want more. I want to own her, and the idea she will someday share this with someone other than me is hard to swallow.

She’s not ready for forever… even if I am. And I am. I would seal my future with her for the rest of my life if I could. My need for her is that strong. Or is it my love for her that is so strong?