Maybe I just love you because you don't think I suck or because you're incredible to write about, or because you don't laugh when I say I like to read poetry or because you're easy to understand most of the time.
Maybe it's just because I can't help but let my mind wander to a place of you and your berry mints and how my face turns the colour of their flavour when you ask what I'm writing.
Maybe I'm just an idiot.
Maybe all of the above.
