Those four words were once so hard to say with sanity. As if my mother tongue forbade me to know how it meant once. I have sat all day in the empty spaces of us; trying to find an answer without verbalizing it
So I slept on it; I waited on it; I walked on it; I dreamed about it; I accepted it; And I meant it
And I realized; why should I ask him? Because if he loves me he would tell me. *Maybe he is not the type of guy who wander around and saying I love you—a shy one, perhaps—my mind stops thinking.
Or He simply does—not love me?
He stared at me in a long pause and kissed me at 2 a. m ‘Do you like me?’ I asked He stopped and bit my lip; he was not quite there yet Loud and clear, I have found my answer in his silence