Him.

  Him.

  Is He aware that I love Him?

  Is He aware of how much I love Him?

  Does He know that I lie awake at night, waiting for Him to appear in my dreams? That I miss His voice the second He leaves? That I would miss Him, even if I had never met Him?

  Does He know how highly He sits in my priorities, the priorities where even I don’t lie at the top? 

  Does He know how deeply He resides in my heart, knowing more than even my own mother? 

  Does He know how entirely I love Him? How I would carry on loving Him, regardless of if He left? How I continue to love Him, even when He’s gone? How much I’ve loved Him and how much love I still have for Him. 

  He says that He loves me more. Deep down I may know it to be true, but I will refuse it every time, for He cannot love me more. Deep down I may know it’s not even a competition, and I know that there is no simple way to truly tell who may love the other more.

  Love is a simple, confusing, and extraordinary thing. Love is consistent and contradictory. Love is as fragile as silence, only strong as long as both can thrive in it. Love is only as strong as the trust shared between the two beings. It is a privilege to love, and it is a privilege to be loved. One must never forget that.

  Him.

  Is He aware of how much I would give for Him?

  Is He aware that I would sacrifice everything just to be with Him?

  Does He know of the tears that fall, waiting for Him to show? The deep ache I get when I see Him in any pain? The want to be with Him every second, gnawing and scratching at me?

  Does He know of the endless well of patience I have for Him? That I would wait for Him till the end of my life if it meant that He would hold me?

  Truly, I do love Him. I love Him with everything I have in me. 

There is no “but…” There is no “what if…” I simply love Him. I will love Him for as long as I may be allowed to, for it feels to be an honor, being loved by Him and being able to love Him.

  Him.

  He is my Love.

  He will always be my Love.

  And I will always hope that I may stay as His; for the feeling of Him loving me makes the world seem brighter, the color returning to my eyes as if I were child in the new springtime. The feeling of being loved by Him makes the world seem bearable. 

  He paints my portrait for me. He assures me that He loves every bit, every freckle and dimple. Every flaw and imperfection. He doesn’t fix me, but rather, He fixes my perspective. He loves me and helps me love myself, and I wish He will allow it to stay this way for as long as “forever” may be.

-Mor writing stuff from cam X3