I feel terribly sorry to keep bugging you with all the love I feel for this particular person. With every post I say to myself it will be the last, that there can't possibly exist any other way to describe the same feeling... And with every post that follows I prove myself wrong.
But at the same time I'm not sorry. Why should I stop writing about what makes me happy? Isn't it what everybody keeps looking for, a reason to be happy? Well, this person is mine and I will write about it for as long as it does so, and most likely after too, because writing about something sad is surprisingly easy (especially if you don't expect anyone to read it).
Anyways, my love for this person began in the moment I got to meet him, the real him and not the hard and uninterested exterior he would often display. And, just like John Green wrote, I fell in love the way one falls asleep: slowly, and then all at once. I fell hard, and it had never felt so wonderful. I believe I've said it before and I'm not ashamed to admit it again, it was the not knowing that brought me in. I was amazed by the simple fact that I had "known" that person for a whole year and as just now seeing the real him.
Loving him was like being a kid in a candy shop. He made my blood sugar high, my heart beat faster. Every new thing I learned about him mesmerized me, and with every of those little things he let me in, and I stayed. And after all this time, my love for him is still like that first spring day after a cold winter: it makes me smile, makes me feel warm and it gives me hope. He still makes my heart beat faster, but now he also makes it beat slower because being in his arms makes all the stresses go away. I feel safe with him, in every sense.
I love him more today that I did yesterday.
Although I, more often that not, like to call him mine, he belongs only to himself. And with all his freedom, he still comes back to me, day-by-day. I'm blessed, what else could I wish for?