Maybe it would be easier to tell you why I love you first.

One. Your smile and your laugh. These two fit together because one always follows the other. It starts out as a half-grin, and then the other side catches up just as you open your mouth to project a noise I've come to recognize as your laugh. It never fails to make me smile, too.

Two. Your face. No, that's not shallow. I love your face when you don't notice me looking at you. The slope of your nose, and angle of your jaw and the way your eyes move when you think. I love the way you sometimes smile to yourself like you've just come up with the best joke to tell me later. I love how you crinkle your nose every time we pass by that one section of pavement that always smells like tire rubber. I love the way you inhale when we drive by an open field. When you wrinkle your forehead at me when I talk too fast, it makes me want to never speak again, just so I can look at how your eyebrows arch in anticipation.

Three. The way you say my name. Four syllables, all said with a grace and elegance that I didn't even think had been invented before you came along.

Four. Your arms when they are wrapped around me. Safe. Warm. You let me know that I won't ever fall when you're around.

Five. How you already know everything about me. You know easy stuff, like my birthday and favorite color...but you also know the hard stuff. You know that depending on how early I woke up, whether or not I want coffee or tea. You know that when I don't talk to you for a few hours, I'm not mad, I'm having a Netlfix Movie Marathon. You know that when I'm down, a sweet note from you will always make it better, even if it just says, "U ROCK MY SOX".

Six. You don't mind that I'm quirky. You can deal with me. You can deal with my mismatched socks, and my occasional OCD. You don't mind that I only end thing with even numbers, or that every time I run, I make a song out of my breathing pattern and footsteps. You can deal with the fact that I'm not always consistent in my actions, and that sometimes, I'm TOO consistent.

And the reason you don't know that I love you:

I wonder every single day if you're going to wake up and realize that maybe I'm not worth it.