I asked her why once, fingers tangled in her brown hair. She turned around and kissed me, a peck on the chin and said, “Because you remind me that my world, my life, is perfect,” I would have asked her how, then. But our limbs were getting distracted by other things.
She gives me this feeling that I belonged in this world. I told her once that her smile gave that feeling to me. She retorted, “Well, you don’t have to smile to do that to me,” I wasn’t sure why, but I sobbed, no, cried openly into her arms and bosom that night.
I once told her earnestly that I always felt extremely lucky to have her. She poohed it and said that everyone is lucky. And didn’t she have me to give purpose to her life as well? “Well,” she says, “I guess we are both lucky to have each other then?”
And then she smiled.
Hi there. I tell stories.
As you can see from the one above, I'm an incurable romantic.
That doesn't mean I'll go all clingy on you, though. I'm out to remind people of their awesomeness so that the world will be a better place. It would take one hell of a woman to make me budge from that.