"Why do you love me?" I suddenly asked as I looked at him. I felt his arms tighten around me as he hugged me from behind.
"Does there have to be a reason?" he asked. I felt something drop in my stomach. I faced him and raised my brows.
"Of course there has to be." I paused. "I mean, if you ask me why I love you, I can tell you a million reasons why." He sighed.
"Well, I think having reasons for loving someone is stupid. Those reasons become a certain boundary, a limit. If you love someone because they have pretty eyes and those eyes become dull someday, then you'll stop loving them? Or what if you love them because of their hair and those hair turned gray?... What if you love me because I'm sweet and understanding then one day I'll stop being sweet and have fights with you because of petty things, will you love me less?" I found myself vigorously shaking my head no. "I love you because I love you, reasons be damned. I just do." Then he kissed me on my forehead.
And in that moment, I swear I felt my love for him grew a little more.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Left Unsaid
Poetry. ✈ • un·said (ˌənˈsed/) - тнoυgнт вυт noт мenтιoned oυт loυd or dιѕcυѕѕed - noт eхpreѕѕe...
