I can't articulate what I feel. I'm scared of feelings. I suppress them.
Maybe this is finally me being honest, or at least, here's to hoping it will be:
I like him.
He's tall, and broad shouldered, and lanky, just like how I like it.
He has the best teeth I've ever seen, I just want them, however you can have another person's teeth.
He laughs at my jokes, and picks up on my quirks. That's rare.
He reassures me with his words, which is my love language. He speaks it often, speaks it genuine.
He is protective of me, territorial even. There's something nice about being protected.
Almost every time he goes too far, he catches himself and stops. It's so impressive.
He strives to be a good man. Striving is what needs to be there, not 100% success rate.
I feel like he carries everything. When the ball's in his court, he's got it covered. And when it's in mine, he still takes the wheel. I love that. I'm a little tired of carrying myself and other people, maybe I just need to be carried.
I've never second guessed anything I've said or done when I'm with him, he just accepts me right where I am and doesn't ask me to be something else. I don't hide things from him.
He has never, ever treated me in a way that I was unpleased with. Honestly, I feel like he never will either. He's so good to me.
He is patient and devoted.
He gives good butterflies.
I am physically comfortable with him. It feels natural, and progressed naturally from friends to.. extra friends. I'm not scared or intimidated by him.
I like his parents. He likes mine.
I feel like he's in love with every part of me. Do you know what that feels like? To be completely accepted and loved by someone else? Failures, imperfections and weirdness included. It's wonderful. The best, actually. I blossom inside a little every time I say it.
I want him, with me. Us.
