I love you. I am not in the habit of denying what I feel.
Perhaps, I see something of myself in you and you see a part of yourself in me. Something which the world would not understand as of now, but a relationship has nothing to do with the world at large. It has everything to do with you and me.
But I must tell you this: love is more than just a feeling. It is a responsibility.
It has a lot to do with respecting the feelings and sentiments of the one you love. The kind of person they are. Where they are coming from. What is their history, what dreams do they dream and what makes them the person they are.
And I don’t know anything about you. Not yet.
I don’t know what brings tears of pain to your eyes. I don’t know what makes you happy. I don’t know what makes you scared, what are the day-to-day challenges you face, and what keeps you going after a hard day at work. I don’t know what makes you cringe, what makes you blush, and I don’t know much about your past, either.
I care for you, but that’s not enough.
I realize you are not ready for our relationship, and that you have faced several bitter disappointments in your past, and that you are wary and cynical. I have seen the way you are in the habit of extrapolating, and though you are a rational person on the whole, in terms of love, I can safely say you are not. You hold me accountable for things I never meant. You twist my words around, at times, when I am speaking of something not related to you at all, and you view me in a cynical manner.
But I know you love me.
I know you feel our connection. I know, that the emotions reflected in your eyes are pure. I know you care, and often prioritize, me. I know you give me the importance I deserve, and I trust you, and your intentions. You are an honest, open person, and you care deeply about me, and I have seen the way you would gently touch me, in a non-sexual manner, and caress my hair, or reach out to me in so many ways.
I do not doubt the intensity of your feelings. But love is more than feelings. Love is courage. Love is being vulnerable. Love is action.
Love means not letting the jaded cynicism which fills our bones get the better of us. Love is realizing that not everyone is manipulative. Love is being critical, but in a gentle, soothing, constructive manner.
Love is being there for each other, walking hand-in-hand, listening to each other even as we gorge on ice-cream and cold coffee, and love is moving over so that the person I love has more space to stretch in the bed we share.
Love is giving up our favorite novel to read the book my lover has recommended. Love is selfless.
Love is sleeping in each other’s arms, but love is also staying up nights to nurse my lover back from the fever that does not let them sleep.
Maybe I am being too idealistic, but love is doing everything in your power to prevent your darling from shedding a single tear. Love is taking out time and effort to build the relationship from scratch.
Love is realizing that the dreams you share, and the dreams you dream independently, need not be separate.
Love is knowing, with a deep sense of wisdom, that what holds you together is stronger than anything which can break you apart.
And I hope you discover all that love is, together, with me.