Ignorance or Truth?

I will be honest and raw with you in this moment, as we sit in slightly dingy chair that we are sharing. This house is feeble and tight, but it only feels that way when you're absent from the space. I playfully tug at your hat, pulling it over your eyes. You pretend to be annoyed with a smile behind your "Stop!". I was hoping to say more than I could ever say with words, because in this moment I am so very certain that I love you. It is a painful revelation. I almost hate myself for it. I almost hate you for it. I almost want to curl up into you and pretend that I can will it away. But I cannot, and although we are comfortably tangled in this chair, you are still my friend, and nothing less, but sometimes just a little more. I fall in and out of you, I want more and less of you, I want to get away, and I want to be by your side. I want to push you away and I want to hold your hand. I want to kiss you. I always want to kiss you. Honest and raw is what I said I would be, but I changed my mind when I looked at your face. Why? Because ignorance holds just a little more promise than truth when it comes to you.