maybe it's silly

I fucking love him.
I don't know what to do with this but enjoy it. Enjoy it as well as I can. There is no one else that I'm interested in. Just him. Every day I hope he'll come back to me. Every day I know that he won't. It just doesn't matter. I love him and there's nothing to be done about it.
I'm sitting home alone, drinking hot toddies (that's whiskey, tea, lemon, and maple syrup if you're vegan), eating rice and beans, and thinking about him. Did you know that I think about him constantly? Everything I do I relate back to him somehow. Today I called him from the art center because I'd been sad about my mom and had started crying. Today I called him and asked him to say words for me from my dialect class so I could see if the rest of the country really does have a low-back merger (it makes the words "dawn" and "don" sound the same, as well as "caught" and "cot"). I loved it. He obliged. He said "robot" three times for me. He laughed. I love it when he laughs. I love it when he sounds like he feels something. I love it when I'm the root of that.
He said that he would visit me. I'll have to play nice. I'll have to pretend like I don't want to fuck him. I'll have to pretend like I don't want to spend the rest of my life with him. I'll have to pretend we're just friends. He knows that's not how I see him. I tell him that I miss him. If I do it right, then he's charmed. Otherwise I'm not sure how he feels.
I think he misses me too, but not the same way.
I want us to be together. I don't know how else to say it.
I guess I'll just stay single, in case he ever comes back.