Why do I love you?

I've waited a while for this, and I always knew that I'll know love when I see it in the eye. So I guess you can say that I saw it in yours.

So, why?

It’s not because you’re broken, as I have been accustomed to loving the others that have come before you. You couldn't be in a more perfect state. 

And to be honest, I'm quite scared, a bit broken, and very, very cynical. I thought all my past relationships have just about worn me out... I couldn't be more mistaken. 

I love you. I feel it when I wrap my arms around you, and wait for that precise moment when you cross the line between attempting to sleep, and letting out that one final sigh before you finally doze off. It gives me a strange sense of completion. It's when you're finally asleep that I get to kiss your forehead, stare at you for a while. And in that brief moment, I get to reflect about how we've only been together for a few days--yet I  know, in spite of being the unsure and indecisive and confused person that I am, that this is going to last for a long time.

Pause

It’s the pause in between the long kisses. Then I look in your eyes, and I see a glint of something growing in you (and no, it’s not that thing down there).

I know because I feel it, too. And I wish—how I damn wish—that I can put that feeling in a box, seal it tight, put it at the most convenient spot in my heart, so I can easily open it whenever I want to, whenever my short temper rouses me to anger, whenever I’m feeling impatient… whenever, well, whenever the bad in me gets the best of me.

We’re a long way ahead, but something’s telling me that those pauses, the knowing smiles, the lump in my throat—that’s a great place to start as any. 

The Only Thing

If there's anything stopping me, that would be the skepticism about love that I have acquired through the years. It would be the  fear of holding on too tight, of identifying myself with one person--one person in a sea of billions of people. Because in the past months, I've asked this more times than I could count: how do we really choose the person for us? Or do we ever really choose--is it not destiny, some kind of cosmic force, that designates the person we're supposed to be with, at least for the time being?

And then in the midst of my curiosity, just when I thought that I knew better than to like someone (because I haven't really liked someone in a while) and that I have this entire liking thing figured out, you come walking in. And I'm pleasantly surprised.

And to be totally honest, all these aren't nearly enough to stop me from getting too close. Maybe it's the fascination I have about you, or the contentment of entangling myself in you. Or maybe because I've known no other joy more addicting than liking someone I'm thus far compatible and interested and willing to give myself to with. There are a lot of maybes, and only one thing certain, which I suppose is all that matters.

I can go all day justifying myself, going in circles just to understand myself. But at the end of the day, it's you. It's all you, and I guess that's the only thing I really need to move forward.