I think I always knew I would love you.

As a kid I used to joke that I would marry you,

but somewhere down the winding road of life

that joke turned from a hearty giggle to

a light-hearted laugh of sincerity.

 

It took a while, but you grew to love me too.

Though your mouth does not permit you to admit it,

and your eyes fight to hide it,

I see it. 

 

It's in the way you hold my hand

The way you kiss my head

The way our bodies fit like puzzle peices carved from the same hunk of wood

It's how you poke fun at me

Or pester me to do things you know will help me

 

You think this is mere care for someone 

but it runs deeper than that.

 

Now, though you fight it,

I see the light of love emanating from your lips, your eyes, your fingertips. 

You keep holding it back, crossing your fingers that I will not say it

so that you won't force the "Thank you" you've planned in response.

 

The only ever dreaded "Thank you"

 

I keep my three worded sentence to myself,

I whisper it in the night before I sleep,

after you've left and you're too far to hear it,

and sometimes I'm as brave to mouth it as I cuddle up next to you.

 

Though it pains me to wait until the day you feel safe enough to utter those words,

I will.

Because the day you are able to open your heart to me,

will be the day our lips quake as they utter the long anticipated phrase

"I love you"