Yours and proud.

I love you, for the many things you do and don't do.

For the times I speak and make no sense, or when I make too much sense and you counteract my reasons.

Even then, you let me see your logic. When there's none, I let you see mine and you silently but purposefully oblige.

When people fail me, you offer encouraging words, lifting my spirits up even when I least need it.

You make it known that you stand by my side, no matter what.

When I receive harsh words, you replace them with sweet ones.

Even ones that don't relate but still makes me smile.

You make me forget that I'm lonely, when I am. Or mad, when I'm really just disappointed.

You hug me tight, run your fingers through my hair, and lay a kiss on my forehead so gentle, so full of respect...

Those kisses melt my heart every time.

Can I imagine someone loving me as much as you do? As beautiful and unconditional as the love you offer?

How can I not be proud of a love like that? How can I not boast of a love so pure yet so strong?

Your love, that I reciprocate in many ways that I can.

To satisfying your belly to enriching your mind...

To giving you compliments and the appreciation you deserve...

Tell me now, how lucky have I become? I must have been Ghandi in my past life to deserve someone like you. No, just you.

I love you more than I have ever loved someone else before. And maybe you feel the same way as I can't imagine a greater love you can offer.

A love like yours, your love, I proudly call mine in this lifetime.