And I feel it. And it's real.

There are moments when I watch you beside me- sleeping. The rise and fall of your chest moving in sync with my own. Your body so relaxed; peaceful. Your five o'clock shadow feels rough against my hand as I stroke your cheek. In this moment, I want to tell you so many things. Everything. How my heart still skips a beat when you reach out and hold my hand. How I think, in some ways, you've saved me from a life for which I was merely settling. How I never, ever thought I would have someone who looks at me the way that you do. How amazingly more beautiful my name sounds coming from your mouth. How hard it has been for me to tear down my walls, yet knowing that I wouldn't have done it for anyone else. How you've made me re-evaluate everything I've ever thought about love or being in love. How rewarding it's been to watch you grow and learn. How I can't wait to see you become the person you've always wanted to be. How much I adore who you are already. But, I say none of this. I don't want to disrupt the moment. So, I merely whisper, "I love you." It floats in the air between us, filling the space. Joining us together. As I lean in, our lips slightly touching, your eyelids flutter open, and your hand squeezes mine.
"I love you, too," you say.
And I feel it. And it's real.