To love you is to accept who you are, really.. The good and the bad, the laughter and the temper, the pimples and the burps, the lonely days and the days when you walk with your hand entwined with mine.

I have so often picked on your flaws, expected you to do what you couldn't possible do and found fault in you. That isn't very fair now, is it?

Why couldn't I just sit back, relax, and see all the little things you do for me with all your heart? Why can't I just interpret all your gentle touches and caresses, your mighty hugs, your sinking kisses? Why can't I feel love from all that, knowing you wouldn't speak of it doesn't mean you don't feel it?

I miss you so much.