You told me you loved me,

but I was not ready

to let those words slip

from my mouth,

to let the world know

that my heart had been

officially and fully stolen.

 

Before I could say, “I love you,”

I loved the way your

chocolate brown eyes twinkled

when discussing Peter Pan,

crinkled as you laughed,

and shone as you smiled.

 

Before I could say, “I love you,”

I loved the way you always

looked at me while I spoke.

Even when I turned away,

I could still feel you watching me.

 

Before I could say, “I love you,”

I loved the way you always

latched yourself around me

when we cuddled,

how your beating heart

soothed and lulled me.

 

Before I could say, “I love you,”

I loved the way you always

smiled into our kisses,

how our lips melded together as one.

Even when kissing was strange,

foreign, weird,

it still felt natural with you,

completely and utterly

perfect.

 

That was before,

when I was afraid of falling,

of vulnerability and loving anyone

with more compassion than I gave myself.

Even now, I still love the way you always

kiss, hold, hug, tease, and calm me.

But now, I am not as afraid.

Loving you is much easier

than loving myself.

Now, I will tell the world

that you have,

and will have for a long time,

my heart, soul, and

undying love.

 

That was before.

This is now.

It is all for you, my dear.

I love you.