I’m laying in bed at 1 AM, wide awake, as always. I text Marc about something random as hell, as always.

And it just hit me… how I can send him the most random, inane thoughts from my brain and he doesn’t think I’m a weirdo. I mean, sure, I am a weirdo, but it doesn’t matter to him.

How many people did I date, where I felt like I was being annoying or pestering, just because I wanted to share a random thought? Hell, not only people I’ve dated, any person in my life. I don’t feel that with him, I never did. That is the definition of “you just know”.

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