He asks me as we lay in the dark. Why love me? The implication is always that there is nothing special to him. No reason I should value him so highly. Sometimes he expresses that thought. Sometimes not. Sometimes he tells me that I shouldn't.
Always the answer is both simple and complex. There is no reason.
If there were reasons -- if I could point to this thing or that and say 'Here is the root of my adoration' -- it would not feel as true. If there were reasons, this love could be easily broken. Change this, do that, stop the other, and poof, the love is gone. This love isn't cut out so easily.
Stroke me, and I love you. Hurt me, and I love you. Keep me, I love you. Send me away, I love you. Be strong. Fall apart. Stand tall. Bow. Fight. Cry. Argue. Agree. Create. Destroy.