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In the way it may not make any sense.

It all makes sense to me. 

Your words. Your actions. Your responses. Your habits. Your fears. Your doubts. Your understanding. Your decisions. Your choices. Your reasons. Your boundaries. Your triggers. Your anger. Your revenge. Your disappointment. Your frustration. Your distance. Your pain. Your determination. Your stubbornness. Your protectiveness. Your contradictions. Your escapes. Your returns. Your care. Your caution. Your consideration. Your gentleness. Your thoughtfulness. Your forgiveness. Your willingness. Your sacrifices. Your nearness. Your touch. Your smile. Your laugh. Your warmth. Your eyes. Your passion. Your hopes. Your sparks. Your ways. Your softness when you least realize it. Your sharpness when you’re hurt. Your voice when you’re explaining. Your silence when you’re overwhelmed. Your way of holding back. Your way of holding on. Your way of letting go. Your way of loving. Your way of breaking. Your way of trying. 

Because I have, do, and always will believe in you.

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