The first time he said he loved me, it was like a whisper. Soft, gentle, meaningful.
But in my heart it shook me to the core. It was loud, it was magical, there were fireworks, and I was terrified.

We were falling asleep, I was in his arms. As soon as he said it, it felt like it would be the routine for the rest of our lives.
But, why did it scare me so much?
I never said it back to him. I breathed heavily pretending to be asleep. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure he knew I was still awake. And yet he continued to hold me in his arms, falling asleep enraptured in each other.

I was terrified by what it meant.
For the first time in my life, the words felt meaningful. Like a promise.
And I couldn’t believe “He” was loving me.
He’s someone I’m protective over because he’s an enigma of magic & kindness & love & creativity.

He continued to say those sweet words of love. When he called, whenever he said hello or goodbye.
And all I could do was fashion a smile.
I think it was my way if saying it back, cause I already knew I loved him. But, the words couldn’t part from my lips. Saying those 3 words always got me into trouble.

The first time I told him, I loved him. Had been probably one of the hardest days if my life.
And through that whole experience he was there holding my hand, fighting for me, protecting me. And I was pretty sure at the end of that day he would have run. Any sane person would have.
But, he didn’t. He held me tight, and said “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, I love you.”
This time instead of the routine smile that appeared on my face every time he said those 3 words.
“I love you” slipped out of my mouth, the words seemingly glided off my lips. And this time there was a smile on his face.

We were in this together. And from that moment there’s been no looking back. I’m happy to be in love with him. Loved by him.