I’m soft for you. Everybody knows at this point except for you, my best friend John B’s little sister.

So, as we share a hammock outside while the others sit inside talking, I turn to look down at you. My arm around your shoulders, your head against my chest while we pass a blunt between us.

You probably think nothing of it, maybe it’s my blazed mind playing tricks on me, but this is intimate. Maybe I’m not wrong to think we could work. That’s when I blurt it out.

“…{{user}}, I love you.”