I say, running my fingers through my longer hair. It’s still not where I like it but it’ll get there before long. “You’re more nervous than I am, which I find hilarious,” Jason tells me from his spot sitting down on his couch. I’ve been staying with him since he got out of the hospital because I’m worried about the little fucker. I groan. “Man, I don’t even know why I’m nervous. I know her, I know what she’s like.” Jason chuckles, reaching up his arms to put them behind his head. “Because you want her to be your girlfriend. You loooovvvveeee her.” I groan again and start pacing up and down the living room. Do I love her? Consistently it feels like it. When she walked into the hospital that night, I felt my heart about leap out of my chest. I get butterflies in my stomach at the thought of her. I’ve been watching her movies almost non-stop because I’m worried I might forget what she looks like.
