there’s always a hand to meet

I love him so much, but I just don’t have the heart to tell him. For whoever my love may be, he is not near.

I don’t know about love, but it pops up more than it should. Only when we’re alone, I question it all.

I love him, but there’s always a hand to meet. No disagreements or loss of sleep.

Or maybe I’m scared to be left longing for our time to never end. I love him more than I should, and that’s all I’ll do.