I have been asked, three times in my life, how it feels to be in love. I’ve decided to take this opportunity to tell you as best I can.
My lover, it’s the way he touches me. Not always sexually, but in general. So gentle. So caring. Like I matter. Like it’s his job to protect me.
My lover, it’s the things he whispers. Yesterday, we were about to.. well… and he pulled me close, ran his fingers down my side gently and whispered “I love you.” I will remember that forever.
My lover, it’s the way he holds me, when I’m tired, when we’re sleeping, when I’m drunk, when he’s driving and extends a hand to hold mine.
My lover, it’s the way he looks into my eyes, confessing every we he loves me with a single look.
My lover, he loves me. All I fear is that I won’t love him enough and he will disappear.
It doesn’t matter if you know that you’re in love or not. It just matters that when it feels right, you squeeze tight and never let them go.