I don’t pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me; love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into the room and smile at you.
We have our own issues and we get really bad on our bad days. You love me at my best and you still love me at my worst. You are all the good things wild and free and I can’t seem to stay away from you for even a single minute. I get scared sometimes but sometimes one has to trap that inside, somewhere cold and far and deep inside themselves. But then it’s okay if you’re there– I just don’t want to hold you so close and so tight though. Let our own spaces hinge themselves together and wound closer and closer. You make me perfectly sane and perfectly mad at the same time. I don’t know what to do sometimes. It’s being so empty and then full like your bursting at the seams all at once. Like I said before… plain and simple: you will have every kind of kiss in every kind of way in every possible place when we are together. I love you papple.