Why I Love Him

To all the boys and men that I love,

I never fully realized how large the difference is between why I love you and what society tells you you need to be in order to be loved.

I love him for his strength, no not his physical strength, but rather his strength to be vulnerable. His strength to show emotions and to cry. I love that he cares so deeply about his family and that he calls his mom often to tell her he loves her. I love that he writes me letters. That he asks me to say prayers with him and tell him a story before I tuck him into bed. I love that he’s sensitive and strong enough to be real. That he will go up to a girl on the playground (yes with no liquid courage) and tell her he has a crush on her and why she makes him feel so giddy. I love that he will so openly and easily let himself cry. And I love him for the way he so courageously speaks about his type one diabetes. I love how he wears some color in all of his outfits and I love how he hugs me for longer than most people do and when he does he says “hugs and squeezes hugs and squeezes”. I love how he alway said I love you, because he knew from his farther what the absence of those words felt like.

I love that he’s generous, not because he wants something in return but because he loves to give. I love that every time I’m with him and he sees a homeless person he always puts money in their cup. That he will step in and pay for someones food who forgot their card or eagle ID. I love that he is always willing to help. That he is generous with his time and doesn’t rush the old lady walking or checking out his groceries. I love how he thinks to ask me for advice on girls and always looking for new ways to make those he loves feel special. I love that he takes the train or Ubers back with his girlfriend so she never has to be alone and is safe. And that he always leaves a tip that makes the waitstaff thank him in way that you know they don’t see that degree of generosity as often.

I love listening to his stories about the things, memories, and people he loves. I love his banter or “bants” and that when he truly laughs, he giggles. I love how he comes to my extracurricular activities and that he always sticks around to the end so he can hug me. I love how he always gives the biggest hugs to my mom. And how he takes the trash out for my grandmother, takes her to her doctors appointments, and helps her put on her coat. I love his soft and subtle scent. And his silly little theatrical performances that he acts out when telling a story. I love how he always makes time to talk to his long distance girlfriend. I love how he knows me well enough to give me what I need rather than sometimes what I may be asking for. I love him for his huge heart and his ability to make feel so loved and special.

I love that he finds excuses to see, hug and spend time with me even if means he has to do the book orders for my entire class. I love that he calls me Case and knows when I am sleeping based on how my texts deliver. And how he will always ask for my fashion advice. I love him for his confidence in himself even when others may judge because they do not understand. And I love how he will come to my yoga classes, even if he’s the only boy there. I love how even when I would push him away and say “no we’re in public” he’d pull me in closer, kiss me, and say “I don’t care who sees”. I love how when he sees dogs he kneels down and kisses their face. That he checks in with his ex girlfriends friends to make sure she’s doing alright. And I love when my hairs in my face how he will tuck it behind my ear. I love how he texts me and says “you don’t need to respond, I just wanted you to know” and I love how he so patiently helped me with my college essays. I love that he knows if he wants to get in touch with me he should call or text and that I never use snapchat. And I absolutely love hearing about how he wrote love letters to his now wife for a year before she agreed to go on a date with him. I love that even when he was in hospice he was making his favorite jokes for the thousandth time and that he would always sing so proudly when we went to mass together. I love how he opens the door and says “after you” not even just for girls, but for everyone. And I absolutely love how through him I learned how to love so beautifully.

I love him for his sensitive, thoughtful, kind, warm, affectionate, compassionate, soft, open, silly, vulnerable, real, raw, imperfect, gentle, genuine, honest, and loving ways that make him such a gentleman.

I love him so so very much. Not because he’s what society deems as a “man” but because he is human and for being himself. For going through heartbreak, hardship, struggles, anxieties, grief and suffering, and still choosing love despite it all. I wish I told him this sooner, only recently have I more fully understood that what I so fiercely love about him may in fact be different than what he feels makes him lovable.

Oh, and I almost forgot…I love when he reads my blog posts too.

Love Always,

Casey