Loving Him

He knows my darkest secrets, my weirdest habits and the hairstyle I do when I am late for work.
He can name all the brands I get my makeup from, the perfumes in my wardrobe and the contacts on my
phone.
He notices when I struggle to walk in 5-inch heels, the times I get embarrassed by my crooked teeth and the nightmares I have in my sleep.
He is aware of all the nights I climb up to the roof, the mini journal I hide in the bathroom and the scars I cover with foundation every day.
He cares about every member of my family, the places I love to go to and my health the times I get sick.
He learned how to pronounce my last name, how to tie my hair in a high ponytail and how to cook our favorite recipe.
He reads all the books I am passionate about, the fashion magazines I always buy and the comics I had as a child.
He admires the acne on my face, my
eyes which are the color of the ocean and the grass combined and the stretch marks covering my body.
He told me about every other girl he ever knew, his weaknesses and his violent past.
 He took me to places only
we knew, to visit his mothers’ grave and to the house he used to live in before.
 He always hugs me tight after
any fight, wipes away my tears and tucks me in bed after a really long night.
 He never gives up on us and never breaks my heart with his words or raises his voice.
“Why do you love him?” They always asked. “If I were to mention all the reasons why I love him, I'd stay up for nights and not finish 'em” I replied. “He loves me and I love him.”