I don't exactly know how to put this.
I love him. I think that's the simple way of expressing it. But it's not enough. It's not even close to be enough. And I don't know how to put it in writing.
I love his eyes. They are the same colour as dark chocolate, 80 % cocoa, almost black, but only that; almost. Not completely. They are at their warmest when he looks at me, and they look like cola when the sun hit's them just right. They are shaped like half moons, and his eyelashes are like little feathers. They always study me, my face and my movements, and they always make me tickle inside. They might be my favorite part. His eyes.
Or his smile, and the lips around it. His smile, perfection in its flaws. His teeth might not be white pearls sitting perfectly next to each other, like those modified Hollywood-smiles. He has little gaps between most, especially between his front teeth, but I've seen no cuter smile, than his. It's not that often, the sound of his laughter is rare, but genuine. His smile lights up everything, lights up the world, the dreams, me. He doesn't abuse the laughs, or the smiling like I do, he doesn't hide behind them, he only grants those gifts to the ones deserving. And I feel blessed for being one of them. His smile is like the sun, and because of him I know I don't need to be afraid of the dark anymore.
I love every part of him, I've studied every part of him. Like his profile, his slightly wide nose, making his features ever so gentle, caring and inviting. Or his strong chin, so sexy and masculine.
I love every curve, line and shadow on his body. I love the little spots and freckles on his upper arms, the birthmark on his thigh, the scars on his thumb and his flossed nails. I love his shoulders, his chest and his neck. I love how the lights hit him when he lies in my bed, only partly covered by the sheets, and you can just see, how impeccably shadows highlights the muscles. The muscles and curves that fits my body perfectly, whenever we melt together and become one. I love his underarms, and his hands. His hands that are rough and nowhere near elegant, but masculine and only coarse because he plays the guitar so passionately as he does.
And oh, I love it when he plays for me. When he opens up, and lets me see the deepest parts of his soul and his thoughts. when the tones float out, into the space around us, when the music and his voice makes me shiver, and when his face and his neck tense up, from the raw emotion emerging from his gut and his heart.
I love his hips, and the lines on his stomach. I love his beard, I love his thick, curly hair, and I love when it falls down in his eyes and he lifts his hand to correct it. I love his eyebrows, and I love his voice. It makes me feel calm and it turns me on. I love it when he grabs me, and I love it when he holds me. I love it when he kisses me, trace his soft lips over my cheeks, and lifts my bangs with his nose to kiss my forehead. I love how he holds on so tightly, that I can feel how afraid he is to lose me. I love how he's always there to catch me, I love how he reads my mind. I love how he doesn't let me push him over, I love how he never tries to fight me, just for the sake of it. I love it when we sleep together, just sleep, and he cradles my head with one hand, and wraps the other one around my lower back. I love how he presses me against his chest, with my nose and eyes buried in the soft curve just beneath his chin and ear, and I love how he smells. I love how our legs entwine and how I swear to god; nothing bad can happen to me in that moment. I love how he protects me, and feels just a little jealous when other boys gives me just a little too much attention, but never doubts that I belong to him. That I would never be unfaithful. I love how easy and calm his breath always is, and how I get to listen to his heartbeat. I love how we never get out of bed unless we have to, and I love how we always end up wrestling and tickling one another, screaming blissfully, laughing and he makes me squeal with joy. I love how he finds me ever so cute, and how he just dies a little every time I snuggle into his arms or say 'okay' in a special way. I love how we play around with my camera, snapping silly photos of intimate situations. I love every single one of the memories we've created and I love the little movie of me kissing his cheek. I love our spontaneity and how there is room to be yourself whenever we're together. I love cooking for him, and eating with him. I love cuddling up in the sofa or the bed or anywhere, and just be. I love how time doesn't exist between us, and I love it when we tease each other. I love our little adventures and our exploration of the world around us. I love listening to him talking about plants and music, and I love how he accepts every part of me, also the ones he doesn't understand, like my love for fashion and boybands, and how I obsess over my bangs. I love how interested he is in me, and how he would do anything for me, because I would do anything for him as well. I love how beautiful and smart and interesting I feel around him, and I love how he completes me; makes me feel whole. I love how I never feel tired of him, and how I can write all this about him, and him alone, and still not be anywhere near done. There are so many things I love about him, I love everything he does and says, I love everything about him, even the weird parts. I love that he has weird parts. I love how loving he sounds when he talks about his family and his past, and I love how he tries to be everything for me, even though he already is.
I love him to pieces, and I'll probably love him until the day I die. Even though we might not be together the rest of our lives, I don't think I'll ever stop loving him. I don't think you can ever really stop loving a person that has given you this much. I don't think that's possible. He has saved me from myself, from the world around me, and he's the only person I trust when he says; "I'll always be here for you, I'll never leave you. No matter if we break up or something else comes between us, I'll never leave."
He is the only one I would trust with everything. He is the only one I want. He is my everything, my best friend, my lover. I've never put this much meaning or emotion behind three little words, as when I say them out loud to him; I love him.
I love him.