I love you. I really, really do. Not in a way that feels movie-like or dreamy, but in a way that has slowly filled up every corner of me without asking for permission. I love all of you, even the parts that are bitter, confusing, and hard to love on certain days. I love you on the days when you shut off, when you act like you don’t care, when you vanish into your moods, and when you say things that hurt without meaning to. And even on days when it exhausts me completely, by the next morning, the exhaustion dies, and I go right back to loving you like I always did. It’s like my heart resets overnight, even when my brain tells it not to.
You know, sometimes I wish I could stop. Just stop caring, stop wanting, stop checking if you’ve seen my messages or wondering how your day was or what mood you’re in. But I can’t. Because for me, loving you never felt like a choice, it’s something that just... happened. Slowly, quietly, and now it’s just there.