“Can you tell me why you like me so much?”

The question she asked was sincere. She’s looking up at me, with those deep brown eyes... yearning for an answer. I don’t have one.

Does it matter why, my love? Is it not enough that we are here, right now, in this moment? What purpose will it serve feeding your ego at this moment.

Yet it does matter. She’s visibly getting angry. She’s been hurt before. She wants to know that this is real. That it will last. That I’m the one.

Yes, this is real. No, it will not last. No, I’m no one.

I am only here to remind you how to love. How to feel again.

They say everything happens for a reason. I disagree. Perhaps I’m wrong, but I don’t believe everything happens for a reason we are humanly aware of.

I can’t tell you why I “like you so much.” I am still trying to figure that out.

Yet I do. Like you. I like this moment. I love providing you glimpses of safety and security. I love being inside you. I love your touch. Your smell. Your taste.

I sense that you want me to tell you that this is permanent. Nothing is permanent, my love. Forever doesn’t exist for people like us. We are here now. Can’t we enjoy the now? Without clouding it with the fear of the future? Because it is fear. You’re already dreading the thought of being without me.

Let’s enjoy this moment now. So what if I can’t tell you why.

“Come. Shower with me.”