I don't know how it gets better than this.

I almost mentioned it to B today. I refrained. Sometimes I am annoyed of myself and how much I speak of him. I can only imagine how annoyed of me other people are.
I know, I know. I should get over it. And the reason I haven't found anybody else is because I'm not open. And I still think of him because I haven't found anybody else worth my while.
That's exactly it. I haven't found anybody else worth my while. I haven't found anybody else that can reach down into the deepest, darkest part of my soul and just understand. And I think maybe that's just it. I don't know if I really believe that you get that kind of love more than once in a lifetime. I believe that I'm deserving of that kind of love but I don't believe you get that kind of love twice. I think it's Fitzgerald that speaks in Gatsby about all the types of love, but never the same love twice. As much as I shouldn't, I believe in our love. I believe in him. And I believe in myself. I believe in our ability to do great things together.
So no, I haven't found anybody else. I don't need to find someone else. I need him.