The Ones Who Don’t Say They Love You by Maurice Carlos Ruffin

I had always been a bit skeptical of love. As a child, I watched my parents go through a tumultuous divorce, which made me question if love was even worth it. As I got older, I found myself in a series of short-lived relationships, always feeling like something was missing.

Then I met Paul. Paul was unlike anyone I had ever met before. He was kind, intelligent, and had a wicked sense of humor. We fell in love quickly, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I had found someone who truly understood me.

But there was one thing that always bothered me about our relationship - Paul never said "I love you." He would show his affection in other ways - cooking me dinner, surprising me with little gifts, or holding my hand during a movie. But he never actually said the words.

At first, I thought it was just a quirk of his personality. But as our relationship progressed, it started to weigh on me. I began to wonder if he really did love me, or if he was just going through the motions.

One night, after a few glasses of wine, I finally worked up the courage to confront him about it. "Why don't you ever say 'I love you'?" I asked him, my voice shaking.

Paul looked at me for a moment, his expression serious. "I do love you," he said finally. "But those words... they feel inadequate. They feel like they're not enough to express how I feel about you."

I was taken aback by his response. I had never thought of it that way before. "But how do I know that you love me, if you don't say it?" I asked.

Paul took my hand and looked into my eyes. "You know I love you because of everything else I do," he said. "I don't need to say the words to prove it. You feel it in everything I do for you."

It was a strange concept to wrap my head around, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Paul's love was evident in everything he did for me - the way he took care of me when I was sick, the way he listened to me when I needed to vent, the way he made me laugh when I was feeling down.

Over time, I started to appreciate Paul's way of expressing his love. It was subtle, but it was always there. And it made me realize that love doesn't always have to be loud and showy. Sometimes the quiet moments - the ones where you just know that someone cares for you - can be the most meaningful.

But even though I had come to understand Paul's way of expressing his love, there were still times when I craved those three little words. There were moments when I needed to hear them, just to know that everything was okay.

One day, I was having a particularly bad day at work. I had a huge project due, and I was feeling overwhelmed and stressed out. When I got home, Paul was waiting for me with dinner already on the table.

As we ate, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Finally, I blurted out, "Do you still love me?"

Paul looked at me, his eyes soft. "Of course I do," he said. "Why would you even ask?"

"I don't know," I said, feeling embarrassed. "I guess I just needed to hear it."

Paul reached across the table and took my hand. "I love you," he said, his voice steady. "I always have, and I always will."

Those words, coming from him, meant more than I could ever express. They were a reminder that even though love can be complicated and messy and