Breathing and Other Concepts

You

I love you. That is one thing I am sure of. However, I don't know why it had to be you.
Why, why, why?
I almost get tired of asking why,
But the only reason I'm tired of hearing it is because I already know so many answers as to why.
And I don't want to say them, but I think it's best to put it out into the world.
Even though this will never reach you.
So, here it goes.
Why it's you.
. . .
I just love you. And it's not because of your laugh, or your interests. It's not even because you're so hypnotically attractive. No. . .
. . . .

. . .

. .

sigh

I think it's because you're like sunlight...
Just thinking about you makes me feel like the sun reached its way in between dismal clouds to wrap me up in its comforting arms.
Thinking about the way you smile at me, God, how could I even stop myself?

Seriously, what did you expect?
When you play that small smile on your lips, and get shy when someone notices, and talk to me even though you have no reason to.
What did you expect me to do?
Did you expect me to, like, not write poetry about you?
sigh

I love you because I've told you the cringiest things, but you still look at me the same.
You see me and I know you think of me as a woman. As someone stronger from their hardships, not weaker.
I love you because you help me, not smother me.
When your wonderous eyes sparkle like that, I want to be helped.
I love that you make me think I can actually rely on someone. I hate that you make me believe I could rely on someone.