He is beginning to love me.
I see it in the way he avoids my eyes, the way his fingers trace around my neck, the way he moves that one strand of hair away from my face, and the way he constantly mentions my name when he speaks of his future.
I know he is beginning to love me.
He now follows my lips movement with every word I say. He can’t stop smiling when he is around me and somehow finds my lame jokes funny. Last Wednesday, he brought me the book ቹቹ በጎዳና because he knows it’s my favourite and he read it aloud to me as I laid my head on his chest.
Why would one read me a children’s book he doesn’t like unless he is beginning to love me?
These days my crazy has started to match his crazy. By his crazy, I mean his goofiness, his funny dances and the way he gets nerdy when talking about his favourite things. Things like food, numbers and me.
My heart tells me he is beginning to love me.
He makes me playlists after playlist and makes sure that each of my favourite sad songs is included. He plays our songs at night because he knows I can’t sleep without music. Whenever he thinks I am sleeping, he kisses my cheeks as if it were his last time and covers every inch of my body with the blanket.
I think he knows he is beginning to love me.
Because the other day, he was trying to tell me something, but his words kept tumbling over each other. But I could tell from the way he looked at me that he was about to say he is falling in love with me. Instead, he says he is afraid of losing me even though I am not his yet. He tells me he feels like he has already said goodbye to me.
And I don’t tell him he’s wrong.
Because I know I will have to say goodbye to him soon. Because I am beginning to love him too, but the coward in me won’t let me.
I have been broken before and I know better than to love again. The day he tells me he loves me, I will leave and I will not look back. So, I keep hoping he never tells me.
But I know.
I know he’s beginning to love me, and I’m afraid I might start to love him back.