Copied this from somebody. Speaks volumes.
Yet regardless if you love them,hate them,
wish they would die
or know that you would die without them
it matters not
Because once in your life,
whatever they were to the world
they become everything to you.
When you look them in the eyes,
traveling to the depths of their souls,
and you say a million things
without trace of a sound,
you know that your own life is inevitable
consumed within the rhythmic beatings of his very heart.
We love them for a million reasons,
no paper would do it justice.
It is a thing
not of the mind
but of the heart.
A feeling.
Only felt.
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