I can't tell him.

no, I have to tell him.

so I bring him to our
favorite cafe and
order for him as he
smiles with embarrassment
and anger flashes in
his eyes, he doesn't
want to seem helpless,
but it is so adorable.
and I kiss his nose,
more than once, and I
hold his hands from
across the table and I
look at how beautiful
my winter dream boy
looks, in his black
sweater and black jeans
but no leather, and
eyeliner that is as thin as
a sheet of ice, and I coo
and my stomach swirls
knowing he is
m
  i
   n
     e.

and our drinks come,
hot chocolates for us both,
and then dread sinks in,
I can't even take a sip.
he notices, and because
he is so amazing, he
squeezes my hand and
swipes the hair by my ear
and asks me, not what's wrong,
but if I'm okay, and if
we're okay.

I don't know what to tell him,
not at all.