I don't love him, but it's nice to be comfortable. I don't love him but it's nice to be stable. I don't love him but I enjoy the idea of my own life. I don't love him but he's here and you aren't. I have no reason to leave because I mean, what more could a girl ask for? And in a way, I guess I love him because he is comfort, stability, easy. He's a responsible choice and because of that, I'd be better off with him. I could have a great life with my own house and car. Bills paid and a nine-to-five that wasn't too awful. That's the smart life. And I love that and I love him in a smart way.
But I love you in a dumb way. I love you in the irrational, heart-tormenting way. I love you in the 'I'd sleep on a pallet on the floor with nothing more than each other and a handful of clothes and be perfectly happy' way. I would be happier struggling along with you. I'd rather make shitty pay with you than get paid 20-per-hour in a nice house. I'd rather have nothing but you than everything. I love you hard, sweet, painful. I love you in more ways than one. I love you a thousand ways and million more. It's that heart-beating rush, that brain-numbing kind. The kind all the love songs talk about. The kind like you're going 150mph in a 60. Like being shot up in the air, like your first plane ride.
And I'd choose you. Every time. I'll give it all up in heartbeat if it means my heart is going to beat for you.
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