She

She grins when I lean over and kiss her because the little things are major things.
She bites her lip when she looks at me because she finds me adorable.
She looks over her glasses at me when she mockingly tells me off.
She squeezes my hand when holding it just to let me know she is there.

She is someone who accepts me for who I am and what I have done in the darkness and the light,.  She doesn't condemn or patronise me but accepts me for me.  She adores me because she has a love unconditional and pure and perfect.  Perfect love drives away all fear and I fear nothing when with her.  My only fear would be that I would disappoint her and not be the man I strive to be when with her.

She won't fight with me but will turn away when I try to push her buttons.
She has an opinion I cannot sway and will happily fight her corner.
She doesn't believe in airy fairy love, but hard fought, growing and enduring love.
She likes to be treated and loved but doesn't expect me to be a man who gives gifts out of obligation.

She sees me.

She loves me,

She respects me.

She.