I would be a coward and a liar if I said that I didn’t love you. Love is a frightening thing; it entails laying your heart on a cutting board, handing someone a knife, yet trusting that they won’t use it. Giving my love to you means giving you the power to hurt me more than anyone can or has ever had the ability to. It is then expected – no, required – that if you accept this love of mine, you understand these things. You must summon the courage to assume the responsibility of the precious gift you now hold. But somehow it seems incorrect to call my love a gift – you have earned every loving thought, every kind word, every caring gesture. ‘Giving’ love to you implies that you don’t deserve it, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. Love is the most valuable thing I have in this world and I wouldn’t just give it away.