You ask “Why do you like me?” I answer that I like you because you are real – more real than anyone else I’ve met. You don’t pretend, you don’t hold anything back. And I like your body. (I can be real, too.)
I’ve thought about it some more. I like the way you vacillate between serious and silly. We tell intimate stories and connect on an emotional level. I share things with you and you listen, putting an arm around me when needed. Minutes later, you are being outrageous and obnoxious. I laugh so hard that I snort. This goes back and forth all evening with no effort. It surprises me at times yet it flows naturally and comfortably.
I love that you are physically affectionate without expectations. We can touch and snuggle honestly because it feels nice and we like each other. There’s no pretense.
I like that you have a history. You’ve loved, you’ve suffered. You’ve made choices that might not have been the best, but you walked away a better man. I like that you recognize and appreciate the same, in me.
I like you because you ask questions such as ‘why do you like me?’ And not just to make conversation – you desire a genuine and honest reply.
You are ambitious and self sacrificing. Yet, you are not a martyr. You are proud of your work, the way you treat people and the way you look in a pair of jeans. You are blunt and crass and then you are tender and insightful. It’s all you. And it’s all real.