I’m not sure what love is, but I think it’s hearing her say, “You’re an asshole,” while her smile betrays the words that just came out of her mouth. It’s getting a FaceTime call at eight in the morning so she can show you her outfit, because she thinks she looks really cute that day. I think love is blurting out exactly how you feel about her when she asks you why you’re looking at her “like that.” It’s unplanned and sloppy, the exact opposite of how you wanted it to happen; but the smile on her face tells you that it was perfect in its own way. Love is being afraid to let her know about certain parts of yourself, but telling her anyways. It’s making breakfast with her in the morning, dancing with her despite your two left feet, and passionately singing the wrong lyrics just to hear her laugh. I’m not sure what love is, but it just might be magic.
(via thatlesboflow)
