A/N: I don't even know. I was thinking of Damon coming back and Elena not remembering she loved him and the angst that is sure to follow, and then my fingers slipped and this happened. I hope you'll enjoy it, anyway :) Reviews are always more than welcome!

I love you. Do you know that?

You have to. You have to know how I feel. After everything that's happened, everything we've been through, you can't not know. You can't still doubt it. You can't still be afraid that the second you turn your back I'll rush back to your brother.

I think you know. Sometime in that last year you figured it out. You realized that I chose you, I wanted to be with you, I loved you. I think you believed that in the end.

I love you.

How can I not? When you tell me you'll always choose me, when you waited for me, being my friend even if it killed you inside.

When you help me, when you're there for me every time I need you, when you never give up on me. When you claim to be selfish, but always try to do the right thing by me, when your actions are so selfless they make it impossible for me not to love you.

When you look at me like I'm the most precious thing on earth, like you'd go mad if you lost me. How can I not love you when these feelings are reflected in me as well?

When I told you loving you was the most real thing I've ever felt in my entire life, I wasn't lying. I wasn't exaggerating, or trying to convince to let me come to you. It was the truth, loud and clear. It was me finally accepting what I felt and not being able to keep it inside, not for a second longer.

If anyone asked me why I love you, I think I'd need to compose a fifteen-page essay, detailing every single thing about us, and even then it wouldn't be enough. Because how could I explain the way my heart feels like it's going to burst every time I kiss you? How could I explain the incessant, amazing fluttering in my stomach every time you send those flirty little smirks my way, or do that eye thing (you knew it affected me even back then, didn't you?). How could I explain the wonderful feeling of certainty I get whenever I think that no matter what happens you'll be there for me and I'll be there for you? How could I explain that, corny as it sounds, I didn't know what love truly was before you came into my life and turned it upside down?

I don't have to explain it to you, of course. You know. You get it. You understand. You and I, we have something, remember? An understanding. I never have to explain myself to you, apologize, or feel guilty. You understand me, all of me, even the parts of me I didn't always want to acknowledge. There's no doing anything halfway with you. And I wouldn't want to, anyway.

I love you. It's not simple, it's not logical, it's not perfect. And at the same time it is, in the most messed-up way possible. But then, it wouldn't be our lives if it wasn't this way.

I love you. God, I love you, so much sometimes I fear it will consume me whole. And I will welcome it with open arms, because the alternative is unthinkable.

I love you and I don't think I could stop if I tried, even if I wanted to do. You got under my skin when I wasn't paying attention and by the time I knew how to get you out, by the time I figured out the right combination of words and actions to push you away, I didn't want to. It was the opposite of what I wanted.

You and I, we're messy and complicated, but we're real. I said that and I stand by it. We're messy, we're complicated. God, we're so messed up, psychologists all over the globe would have a field day with us. But we're real. Wanna know how I know that? Because nothing fake could mean so much. Nothing pretentious could make me feel so much.

If we weren't real, it wouldn't hurt so much.

I love you, do you know that? You have to. You have to know. Because I didn't get the chance to say it one last time, because I can't remember the last time I did say it, and it's tearing me apart. But you have to know. You have to know and you have to remember. I love you. You have to remember.

Because soon I won't. And I'm so afraid.

I love you. Do you know that?

Of course you do. If there's one thing about us that you could know for sure is that I love you. You've always known it, long before you decided to throw caution to the wind and be with me. And I've never been happiest about anything in my life.

I love you. It's a constant, like a force of nature. It won't change, it won't go away, it won't diminish or cease to matter. I love and I'll always love you. No matter what.

I love you and you know it. And I'm so grateful for it, for the chance I get to have you in my life, to have you know this. I'm so grateful for the chance to get to know you, to understand you, to be by your side. To love you, utterly and completely.

You know, it's funny. Everyone was so worried, so curious about how and why you could possibly love me, they never once thought to ask why I love you. And I'm glad for that, in a way, because I don't think I can explain it. I don't think I can find words that do you justice.

How could I explain the way you wormed your way into my heart by caring about me, trying to understand me and treating me like a decent human being (well, not exactly human, but you get my point), when everyone and their mother kept warning you to stay away from the big bad vampire? How could I explain that I fell in love with you for your kindness, your compassion, your martyr complex that drove me up the wall half the time? How could I explain that I adored that fire and passion and drive you used to keep hidden because you thought you didn't deserve to be happy? The darkness that's as much a part of you as the light; the way you don't let it take over and devour you. The way life put you through the worst and yet, somehow, you always came through stronger.

Your soul touched the soul I wasn't sure I still had. You made me want to be better, be someone worthy of standing next to you. And that's not something I thought I'd ever want.

You made me feel, after so many years of being numb. You showed me compassion after so much time of making sure there wasn't a shred of it left. You gave me love, after all the time of receiving everything but, of chasing after an obsession. How can I not love you?

How can I not love you, when you're the one who showed me what true happiness is, that first day when you jumped in my bed wearing my ripped shirt, and smiled at me and kissed me and made love to me, until I thought I was dreaming, because how could this be real? How could this be mine?

If there's one thing I'm glad of, it's that you know how I feel about you. That you've never had to doubt it. And if there's one thing I regret is not getting the chance to tell you, one last time.

I love you. It's this thought that keeps me going, gets me through every single day that's the same, gives me something good and pure and precious to hold on to. Because I love you, really and truly, and no one and nothing can take that away from me.

I wanted it to be real and it was, so much so that it sometimes hurt more than it made me happy. But I don't regret it, not a single day. I will never regret loving you.

I love you and we both know it. It will be the first thing out of my mouth when I see you again. I will make up for not saying while you could still hear me. I will say it again and again, shout it out loud, write it on the sky if I have to.

So wait for me, okay? Because I love you.

And I'm coming home.