After 14 hours in the car with you, you would think that I would be able to look you in the eye, but I can’t. I am terrified to meet your deep, dark, brown-eyed gaze with my timid light brown eyes. Before I knew what lied behind those beautiful eyes I called you names and made fun of you. I even went so far as to call you a faggot. I just didn’t know.
I didn’t know how much you loved to read. I didn’t know that you, like me, carried a bouncy ball with you at all times just in case. I didn’t know that you would be a better snowboarder than me. I didn’t know how good you are at playing guitar and how good you look doing it. I didn’t know how good your tan, warm skin felt brushing over mine. I didn’t know how well we fit together when we cuddled. I didn’t know how comforting your hand on my waist was. I didn’t know that I would fall in love with you.
Now that I know I realize how much it must have hurt when I stepped out of your roommates bed. Now that I know I hate myself for never caring to know you until now.