Running into you last night was a major shock and surprise. I really like seeing you, I always do, but it was weirder (you know how much I love surprises). But hanging out with you and your friends is awesome, even if it's unintended. I'm scared you hate it. But I love seeing you. I love the little expressions you do. The way you act and react. I love your quirks.
I love you when you're happy, or sad, or angry. There are times that you're certainly easier to get along with, but I love you no matter what.
I can't tell if you're loving me any less, or not. I still feel like you love me. That even when you're cold, and in an uncomfortable situation, and trying to not feel that way about me, you still love me underneath it all.
And what I wouldn't give to be able to kiss you again. To run my fingers through your hair. To lay next to you and laugh at jokes, our legs intertwined. You are my most cherished friend, confidant, and I can't seem to stop loving you.
A part of me is sad about the rose bowl. That was both a great day, and a weird one. But I loved going with you. I remember there being grumpiness, but lots of romance between us. Will you remember that? Will it make you sad? Do you even care anymore?
Remember our times fondly. I want new ones, I want so many new ones with you, for the rest of my life. But we have to remember what we have and laugh at the dumb things that were bad at the time. We were overdramatic, and you're still my heart.