I Love..

 

I love the way he places his hand, splayed out, in the centre of my back while we are lying there facing each other, and then he just presses me into him … holding me there so firmly … making me realise how much he needs me.

I love the way when he was lost for words recently, he said "This is what I mean …" and he kissed me … so tenderly, passionately, touchingly, erotically … I was totally lost in the experience. 

I love the way he can communicate so much without speaking a word.

I love the way his voice is so tender and gentle with me, his smiles so sweet and slow, his face so happy and open.

I love the way he sees me, judges what mood I’m in and then … does exactly what I need to feel happy and loved.

I love the way he lies there, next to me, looking so happy, content and at peace.

I love the way he knows how much I need him and it doesn’t scare him … he doesn’t hide from it.

I love the way he is strong enough to face my dark times with me, holding my hand, helping me up when I fall and telling me how he knows I am strong enough to face this.

I love his eyes, how he looks straight into mine and reads me so easily and so accurately.

I love his smile, the way it just lights up when he catches sight of me when we’re meeting up somewhere near his work.

I love the way he wraps himself around me, his arms holding me close, his chin resting on my head – and then he kisses the top of my head.

I love the way lies back and he watches me after we’ve made love, smiling at how I’m still coming down from the "high" … watching every reaction, every breath to see what effect he has on me.

I love the way he knows my body, understands it, makes me experience sensations that I never thought were possible and takes so much pleasure in doing it.

I love the way he is so unselfish and generous.

I love the way he wants to see me happy and does whatever he can to do that.

I love the way he patiently sits through my tirades and rants, listening and then telling me that I needed to do that and there’s nothing to apologise for when I try.

I love the way he is so intelligent, and whatever pops into my head can be discussed – nothing is too strange or stupid.

I love the way he looks at the world – his interest and his acceptance.

I love the way he immediately reacts to my moods – sexual, needy, talkative, tender – whatever I’m feeling, he just gives me what I need.

I love the way he encourages my curiousity and (almost childlike) wonder at new things and learning as much as I can.  It makes him smile and he stands there with me, patiently, until I have satisfied myself with learning as much as I can.

I love that I can stop him mid-conversation to point out something that has distracted me, and he will immediately join me in my speculation, wonder and questioning.

I love the way we can sit there at lunch, talking and eating – for up to 2 hours – both so lost in each other that the rest of the place becomes non-existent.

I love that he wants to be seen with me, holds my hand in public, kisses me whenever he can, hugs me, introduces me to any co-workers we might bump into.

I love the way his voice catches when I pick up the phone and say hello … showing me that my voice has the same effect on him as his voice does on me.

I love his beautiful personality, his tenderness, his sexual hunger, his considerate thoughtfulness, his attitude.

I love that he loves me …

I love him.