Half the time,
I acknowledge love as a fairytale.
And yet!

I find myself swallowing trepidation,
And thinking,
"No. Even if it were here, or in the past, that's Him"
And then love is apparently a legitimate issue.

Sometimes he acts and I swallow a while before,
I react with humbled affection.
"That's my lot, I committed myself to stick to it."
Unfortunately.

Other times, I get this urge
It's to point, jab my finger at him and his actions
And just state, "That's a Him! It's a classic Him."