If she ever asks me,
“What do you see in me?”
I won’t rush the answer…I’ll let it breathe first,because what I see in you
is not something that fits in a sentence.
It’s a feeling. A pull. A quiet kind of gravity, that rearranges my entire world without asking permission.
What do I see in you?
I see a love so pure it makes broken parts of me sit up and listen.
A love so honest, it strips away every mask I didn’t even know I was wearing.
I see peace…in a world that taught me to survive chaos.
I see warmth…in a heart that somehow found mine
and decided to stay.
And if I had to say it in a way that even the stars would pause to understand
I’d tell her: I see a love that makes the devil long for heaven.
Yeah…that kind of love.
The kind that feels forbidden in its beauty, dangerous in its depth,
because it heals wounds, I had already made peace with carrying forever.
What I see in you…
Is home. Not the kind built with walls,
but the kind built with presence, where my soul finally exhales
after years of holding its breath.
I see forever, not as a promise,
but as something already unfolding
every time you look at me
like I’m enough.
And if she still asks me again…
I’ll just smile, pull her a little closer,
and say
“I see everything I never knew I needed…
and everything I’d never want to lose.”