I love you because you're insane. You woke up on a different side of the bed than the rest of us. Maybe you did a cartwheel over your headboard. I wouldn't put that past you. I love you because for some reason I wouldn't put anything past you.

I love you because you are happy. Because somehow your smile is something that just is. The same way I know that I will always wake up and just be me, you will always wake up and just be smiling. You wake up with a positive attitude that on most people I enjoy stabbing with my sarcasm. I love you because for some reason every time I see your smile, instead of succumbing to my instinct of attack, I want to press my lips to yours, and then I know I will be happy too.

I love you because you're ugly. You look like a combination of a Hawaiian tourist, and someone from back in the days before they had haircuts and razors. I love you because for some reason I don't care, and therefore you will always be gorgeous in my eyes.

I love you because you don't care, either. You've told me that if you cared, you wouldn't be ugly. It makes it so that some days I forget to wear deodorant, and some months my muscle to cellulite ratio is out of whack, but you will still wrap your arm around me, and tuck my hair behind my ear. I love you because your eyes are the same color as mine, and your hands are warm, and even if you did care, those two things you were born with and wouldn't be different regardless.

I love you because you go for the hair. You've always gone for the hair first. I love you because even though you go for the hair, it's not because our shades are the exact same, or because I don't have any dandruff: It's always the smell, the feel, and the texture. I love you because once your eyes have caught something you like, you turn them off and let your other senses take over.

I love you because at night, when I dream, I don't dream of passion and lust, not the stuff from the romance novels, not the stuff out of middle school whispers and clouds of rumors. I imagine a place that's soft, where we can just be together. Because as long as I am with you, the addiction, and abuse, and nightmares-turned-real don't fit on the couch with us. They say that when you love, your heart takes wings. I'm not a simile person, but sometimes when we are lying together, I am afraid of when you leave. Because maybe my heart did take wings, and when your arms are gone it will have nothing stopping it from flying away.