love is a battlefield

love is a battlefield, only it's the two of you against the world.
they throw bombs of negativity, doubt, and the insinuation that you don't understand love.

want to know a secret? they don't understand your relationship.

i could tell you till the cows come home about mr. k singing softly in my ear, but unless you're one of us, the tenderness seems minute. even if i could videotape the time he carried me like a sack of potatoes to the trunk of my car, you wouldn't understand that in that moment, i knew i didn't want to date anyone else.

i may not understand the world's version of love

but {more importantly} the world doesn't understand mine. 

so let them throw bombs because here are the facts:

i love mr. k more than oreos and pumpkin pie. 

he loves me more than espn.

i help him with homework and watch his flag football games.

he makes me laugh, kisses my forehead, and rubs my sore neck.

we take care of each other. we believe in each other. 

we protect and defend each other. 

love is a battlefield. 

we are strong. 

no one can tell us we're wrong

both of us knowin

love is a battlefield