Because It’s You

He said, “I love you.” I blinked, confused. So I asked, “You… love me?” I didn’t get it— Why would anyone love me? It felt strange. Like trying to wear someone else’s skin. He looked into my eyes, Deep, like he could see My soul, My heart, And how it bleeds with doubt. I felt exposed, Like the parts I always hide were glowing, Like he saw every scar Without me ever showing. So I looked back, deeper Searching him the same way. “Why?” I whispered. “Why do you love me?” He flinched. Not surprised But like my words cut deeper Than I meant them to. “Well…” he said softly, “Because it’s you.” No hesitation. But that wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed to know. So I asked, “What about me do you love?” He didn’t smile. Not this time. His voice turned quiet Serious. “I love the way you smile, Even when the world is cruel. The way you cry When you think no one’s watching you. I love your soul And your heart, Even when it’s bruised.” He stepped closer. His hand brushed against mine, His gaze softened like moonlight. “But mostly…” He paused, like the words mattered. “Mostly, I love the way you are. I love you.”