To love is to choose

It may have been nothing but the power of suggestion. You were kind and gentle and friendly.. and that was how I saw you - a nice guy, nothing more than a friend. It started with talking, feeling good about it. And then I started looking forward to talk to you more, until I ended up just looking forward to you. Screw talking, screw friendship. I wanted to be with you.

It probably started with me being attracted to you, like a magnet, I was drawn emotionally to you. Not just because you made me feel good, but also because you're you. And it was swift like that: insensible, different and inevitable.

Each time you smiled at me, I feel like your eyes can see through me. What if you liked me, too? I chased away that silly thought and got contented with the moment. If sitting beside you in silence was the closest I'll ever be, it was the most wonderful thing, even if there was no love involved.

I had admired you enough to let this feeling get real. And it was too strong to be something else. The possibility of it being real was as strong as the possibility of you loving me back. And love me back you did.

Something told me it was no coincidence. It was not forced out of me nor you, nor was it out on my own volition, nor yours. It just happened.

And then you asked me if you could kiss me.
Like I would ever say no.