When you first told me you love me, my very first thought should have been letting you know that I do too, that you were right. But the very first thought that came to my mind was why in the world would you do that?
Why would you do that to yourself?
Why would you do that your heart?
Why would you choose to love me?
Why would you go for the impossible start?
Why would you do that to your sanity?
Why would you do that to your mind?
You can see all my imperfections, why would you choose to remain blind?
I know, you should have been what I ought to be thinking about then, but my very first thought was why?
The second thought wasn't pleasing either. I wondered if love meant one thing for a reader and another for a writer. I wondered why we all bother with this thing if it's meant to end on the disaster.
And then, I decided that love wasn't real and just chemicals inside the brain, but even if that were to be true, I've always been a sucker for imagination.
Maybe I should have felt butterflies dancing on my stomach and the world should have stopped. And like they all claimed it to happen, you and I should have been the only people left in the world.
But when you first told me you love me, from the thought I had or two, none of them included what should have been obvious, the simple fact of me loving you.
And more than one or two....thousand of thoughts have come to my mind, but all of it told me to run away, that this wasn't the real side of the world.
You see, when you first told me you love me, the word wasn't what I was used to, even though it was something carelessly used everywhere, it still felt like something totally new.
So when you first told me you love me, I just stared at you....with all these thoughts going through my mind, I wondered if you do. And it took me a while to silence all my thoughts and to finally tell you that...I love you too. Because I do.