I do love you, y'know. Hurt People

That was about a year before I met you. You came to my first show and sat in the front row. You were so handsome that I almost messed up my lines. And then you met me outside, and we got to know each other. You were the local hero from the fire brigade who made headlines saving that three-year old boy from drowning in the pool when his parents blacked out drunk. You downplayed it, saying that your father was the editor-in-chief, but I got the impression you still wanted validation for it. You always do that, but I get it. You said you’d never met anyone like me before. I wasn’t the star, and it wasn’t Broadway, but you made me feel like it was. You said I was going places, and you wanted to be there with me.
When we moved in together, it felt like I was finally building a home for myself. I never expected to see Jackson standing at our front door like that. I’d barely seen him since high school, but there he was, standing in the doorframe, holding our Chinese take-out. I asked how he was, and he said he was good, and then he asked how acting was going for me. I was honest about it. You introduced yourself and took the food, and I told you he was an old friend while I paid him. I didn’t know that he would come to my show. He had flowers for me afterwards, just like when I was in high school, and he shook your hand. You weren’t like Todd. Todd threatened Jackson for talking to me at our high school graduation and I dumped him. I know that isn’t who you are. That’s why I wasn’t afraid to tell you that I asked him to catch up over coffee.  
When I met up with Jackson, I was so nervous. I never knew why we drifted apart, and I still don’t, really. I was too nervous to ask. For some reason, I apologized to him for the time Todd egged his parents’ house in middle school. I also apologized for not reaching out to him sooner. He just sort of said, “…Yeah.” He was working his way through studying to become a teacher, which was perfect for him. I knew he could do it, but he didn’t need me to tell him that. He looked more confident than I’d ever seen him before. I told him I was embarrassed when he came to my show, and that if I’d known, I would have told him it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. I was still trying to hone my performance into something the audience would actually like. He said it wasn’t a big deal and he was happy to show support, and said I did a great job. He asked how I felt about my performance. I told him I didn’t really know how to answer that. He didn’t think my dreams were stupid even though he was doing something important with his life that meant something.
I didn’t know your father would be there. He told you he saw me with some other guy, and that he hoped you hadn’t fallen for “another pretty face looking to move up in the world.” You got so upset at him that you flipped out and yelled that I was “worthwhile.” Garret never would have done that. I’d never seen you cry, but I remember you did that night. I felt so bad when I heard you say, “Don’t I deserve love?” I said, “Of course you do,” and I still believe that. Your father is proud of you, though. He always says great things about you when you aren’t around, you know. He’s just not great at showing affection.