That I would be loved even when I'm not myself. I had a heart-to-heart tonight with a good friend of mine. It had been a while since I engaged in any form of serious conversation with another person, so the chat was welcome. After talking a bit about mutual acquaintences, she asked me about my boyfriend. "How do you know you love him?," she questioned. This was the first time I had ever truly been speechless. At that very moment all of the words in the world came flying through my head, but I could not say a one. How do you know you love someone? Well. . . You tell me. After a few minutes of consistent stuttering, I managed to spit out fragments of the millions of thoughts I was struggling with. And once the ice was broken, I found myself unable to contain a thing. Though I remember not what was said, I recall exactly how I felt. Absolutely incomprable. I do not love him because he makes me feel better about myself. I do not love him because no one else could ever be as good to me as he is. I do not love him because he makes me happy. I do not love him because I can see myself with him for a very long time. I do not love him because I could not possibly imagine myself without him. I do not even love him because he loves me so much that it makes me cry. So why do I love him?, you ask. Well, You tell me.