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He loves to give me shit for it. For such a grump, he’s quite infuriatingly chipper in the mornings. It’s like he sucks all the happy out of me while I sleep, converting it into energy.
“One day, I’m going to get it through your thick, stubborn skull that you matter.”
He stills. “Not just to me, but especially to me.” I swallow tightly. “That you don’t just…” —I wet my lips, searching his bright eyes— “disappear when no one’s looking.”
might love you harder when you’re at your worst, but that’s only because you need it harder then. But my love for you when you’re at your best?” I release a breath, smiling. “It’s unmatched. It consumes me.”
“One day, I’m going to get it through your thick, stubborn skull that I love you even more when I’m happy.”
“That for as much as I need you when shit’s all dark and fucked up in my head, I love you just as much, if not more so, when I’m clear-headed. When I feel strong and capable, and not strangled by the fear that I’m going to lose you, or by the voices that try to convince me you deserve better.” “Way…” He inhales deeply, bringing us impossibly closer. “My love for you when I’m sad and scared is very selfish. Even a little ugly. But when I’m happy, it’s pure. Easy and simple as breathing.”
