the only time she tells me she loves me is in the aftermath of a storm. when i help her clean up the broken porcelain cats and turtles she threw at me the night before, she always tells me she's sorry. she looks down on the ground, guilty, and looks up with the most pained look someone could give.

"i don't deserve you and i'm sorry. i love you." 

her eyes become red and water, her lips quiver alongside her breathes. i want to reach out to hug her, but i always get scared she would swap it away. but i know in those moments she feels something

she gathers herself together, blinks her pretty eyes and reaches out for my hand. i grab it.

she entangles her fingers in mine, her soft touch so strange to me now these days. she rests her head on my shoulder and i look down at her, a soft smile placed on my face.

"hey," i always say, "you're just in a rough spot right now. we can make it through. i love you too and always will."

she actually hugs me in these moments. she holds me and calls me the sweetest thing she's ever had again.

i hate the nights so much, it hurts so bad, and i know it's horrible, but i'm willing to do it if she actually says she cares for me. to get some reassurance and have her love me. if i need to put up with it, do deal with this, i will

i love her. this is what love is, right?