It’s the way his thumb rubs circles on the back of my hand,

As our fingers are entwined, resting against my thigh,

While his other hand grips the steering wheel of the car.

It’s the way he wraps his arm around me,

Encasing me in a protective shell unknowingly,

Eyes closed and a steady rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps.

It’s the way his bluish green eyes look at me,

Speaking a thousand words his lips don’t,

Of passion, of caring, of love.

It’s the way he squeezes my hand,

As I struggle to contain my erratic heart,

Sitting in the sterile, white emergency room.

It’s the way he silently comforts,
No need for meaningless words

To convey something his body already does.

It’s the way everything comes out as “we,”

The way everything is “our,” everything is “us,”

How our future has so perfectly aligned to fit each other.

It’s the way he encourages me to be so much more,

To study harder, to achieve for better,

To rise and keep rising, even when all I think I’m going to do is fall.

It’s the way he doesn’t need to say I love you,

For me to know how he really feels, what he really thinks.

It’s the way he just loves me unconditionally,

As I love him.