How hard is it to love me?
You say it's easy,
You say it feels right.
I agree, but there must be something that takes effort about it.
How can you love me?
You say it's like breathing,
You say it's like riding a bike.
I agree, but there must be something about it that is challenging.
How much could you love me?
You say it's not a number,
You say it cannot be measured.
I agree, but there must be such a way to count it.
How can you keep loving me?
You say it's the sound of my voice,
You say it's the feel of my skin.
I agree, but there must be something else.
You say I should stop asking questions.
You say that loving me is by design, it cannot be helped.
You say that loving me is enduring through my constant doubts and questions,
and still answering them,
even if I've asked them a million times,
as if I've never said it before.
You say loving me is wiping my tears and holding me close,
even as you are breaking.
You say loving me is looking in my eyes and bearing into my soul,
but all you find is me trying to fill yours.
You say loving me is holding my hand so we can get closer,
even if our bodies are already pressed as close together as they can get.
You say loving me is like laying under a waterfall,
persistent and unending, so grand and powerful, that in seconds you are drowning and overwhelmed in it.
Loving you is just what is.
Loving you was never an option, it was something my body comanded, my heart needed, and the universe willed.
Loving you is what makes me.
Loving you floods over me from my feet to my lungs and out from my eyes, it overwhelms me to the point of boiling over.
How is it to love?
We say to love is to live.
