I am not a bimbo

Love is when he touches me and I become weak. Love is when he stops what he’s doing so he can look over at me and smile. Love is when he knocks into me just to see me smile back at him. It’s when I can’t be angry with him longer than five seconds. It’s the feeling I get whenever I think about him, and knows that he gets that feeling too. It’s when I can feel him stare at me from across the room. Its when he listens to everything I have to say even when I’m rambling. It’s when he jokingly tells me he loves me but really does mean it. Love is when he sits beside me when there are ten other available seats. Love is how nobody ever makes me the feel the way he does. It’s when he offers me his coat even if it means he would freeze. Its when he says he’ll never leave me. When he sticks up for me. When he offers up his seat. When he sits in my lap just to get a laugh. Love is when I can remember everything he has ever said or did. Love is when I couldn’t possibly stop the feelings I have for him even though I have tried so hard. Love is when he keeps coming back because neither of us can get enough. Its when he would never be out of line with me or hurt my feelings intentionally. Love is him and me, just him and me.