You

Oh, you.  Sometimes I really just don’t understand you.  You confuse the hell out of me sometimes.  But I think I’m beginning to learn how to spot when you’re serious, and when you’re just confused, and not really sure of what you’re saying.  You do love me, I know you do.  And I love you too.  Which is why I wish you’d think more about what you say to me.  Most thoughts, I wouldn’t mind at all if you told me, just to get some input, to bounce your ideas off someone else.  But some are just bullshit musings, and those are the ones that I wish you wouldn’t share.  They make me cry, even though I know they aren’t true, and they scare me, and make me unsure about the future.  

I love you, bebe.  We are weirdly perfect for each other, and I love it.