"Sometimes I couldn't sleep, because I wanted to tell her everything, but instead I'd hold her so tightly I thought I would hurt her. She never said anything, just moaned, quiet. I'd measure her breathing, count how many times she'd stroke my knuckles before she stopped, and then I knew she was asleep. I'd draw her profile in the dark, over and over, happy except for knowing that everything she knew about my life was fiction."
First of all, I have to say that this quote is beautiful in all its simplicity. Aside from that...
Coming from someone who counts finger strokes, who lays next to someone, listening to their breathing so as to appropriately set their exhales opposite of their inhales, who equates holding hands with momentarily holding hearts; this is what I am looking for.
Maybe we are just a compilation of all our small, insignificant parts. And maybe love is just when you find someone who finds these insignificant aspects of your being endearing and special, even favorable. This is why we date so many people and truly love so few of them. We're never satisfied until we find that one person, the one who counts how many times we stroke their knuckles until we fall asleep. The one who keeps their eyes on ours, even after they close, and watches them until our breathing slows and regulates itself. The one who counts our freckles and keeps track of their favorite.
Maybe I believe in love, and maybe I don't. But I believe in noticing the little things and I believe in falling in love with freckles and the way your eyes look at mine and I believe in the way you stroke my fingertips when you really want to hold my hand, and I believe in the way you fall asleep after you say "I don't snore" but you sure do breathe heavy for someone who doesn't snore, and I believe in the way your goodbye hugs make my bones fall apart with sobs and I believe in the way your eyes smile when I bite my bottom lip while watching yours, and I believe in the way you can't make your eyes stay the same color each day just like I can't make you feel the same way about me.
Maybe I believe in love, and maybe I don't.
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