You came into my life unexpectedly. Just like how the previous one did. I never thought we'd be what we are now. After all, to me, you were unreachable. Unreachable in the sense that I never considered you to be as important as you are to me now. But the gods proved me wrong. You proved me wrong.
To be honest, I am afraid of how attached I have become. That sometimes I want to be selfish and have you for my own. It scares me that my clingy-ness will drive you away. The mere thought of losing you can be the death of me.
In you I found the love and care I am looking for. You're more than enough for me. I do and will do everything to be with you, to please you, to see that genuine smile I want you to always wear. One word--just one word--from you and I will gladly obey. You have me wrapped around your finger.
I know you know I love you. I have told you that a million times. Maybe more. But then, I told you too that love is different from being in love.
You asked me once, after sharing an intimate kiss, if I love you. I said yes, I do love you. You asked me again, "Are you in love with me?" I avoided the question.
Just this once. Let me tell you the words I cannot tell you for the fear it might drive you away. The words I have been longing to say.
I am in love with you.
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I have no intentions of checking the grammar. I'd like to keep this the way it is.