He doesn't touch me.
When I was young, girls used to say that a boy had to touch you to love you.
He had to hold your hand when you walked down the beach together.
He had to brush away your tears ever so carefully.
He had to hold you close to his body.
He had to kiss you.
But he doesn't touch me.
He's...different.
We don't walk down the beach, or stand in the rain.
We don't go on dates and talk until early hours of the morning.
We don't go and sit on benches or write sappy letters to each other.
And we never kiss.
And everyone told me that he doesn't love me.
But he does.
Not so much through words.
Or...even touches.
But somedays we'll stand around.
And for once, I won't say anything.
And then...
He just wraps an arm around me slowly.
And that's close enough for me.