I Am So Glad You Are Here

If I ever push you away, I don't mean to. When I tell you I don't want to talk about it I do, I am just looking for the right words.
Give me a minute, and if I can tell you; I will.
I try to be a struggling mix of real and perfect at the same time.
At the moment I am working on the ratio.
When I get really quiet sometimes it is because I have too much to say, I have thought of too many things to tell you all at once and I don't know what to say first.
I get immaturely jealous of anyone who gets to see you on a daily basis.
I miss you really easily, but I also like that we can be apart and we are both okay.
Space is good, too.
I love the way we love some of the same things and I love how we love entirely different things.
My head is a complicated pile of thoughts, and fears, and cravings, and dreams, and this tangled up nostalgia for the past and, somehow, the future.
I am flawed and I am human and I am broken and I am trying and I am one person and I am two hands and I am one heart.
And I love you and I am so glad you are here.

   She stood in the parking lot beside her car, reading the letter for the second time as tears began to blur the words. Turning around she looked for his truck but did not see it anywhere and she wondered how he knew where to find her. He never seemed to pay attention to those things but perhaps that is what she thought and it was not the truth.
One hand lifted to brush the tears streaming down her cheeks.
She thought he had left once again to that silent place where he kept himself busy and away from her. Away from her arms around him, laughter over the silly things and deep discussions.
She knew he was a deep thinker, he had always been one and it was what she loved so much about him. Such a simple man but so very complex.
This she knew for real now.
Her gaze went back to the line that kept her attention the most; I love you and I am so glad you are here.
Great Goddess, was that even real?
There it was in black and white.
Another glance around, sweat trickled down her back from the summer heat and she nibbled at her lower lip worriedly. What to do now?
Do I call him? Do I write back?
A nervous shiver washed over her.

What to do now.