And I wonder what love feels like and I’m pretty sure it’s the gaps between your knuckles where my fingers seem to be made to fit perfectly.
But I could be mistaken. After all, what do I know about love? For all I know, love could be the way I look at you when I realize you’ve inevitably become my everything.
Or love could be that frustration that makes my heart skip a beat when I know you’re right and I’m wrong.
Maybe love is the perseverance of making the right choices when nobody seems to be watching.
But I think the moment when I feel love the most is when you have no idea I’m admiring you and it’s in that moment, when you’re oblivious to my adoration, that I see you at your best.