I like running in the rain, holding hands with you.
I like feeling jealous over you.
More importantly, I like it when you get all jealous and protective and tell other guys to back off.
I love staying up with you til dawn, and then sleeping in until dusk.
I like the way you look at me when you pick me up for a date.
I love how you can make me blush.
I like living in today with you, and not thinking about what will happen tomorrow.
I secretly love the fact that you would kiss me deeply even after I throw my guts out after too many drinks.
I masochistically enjoy the uncertainty that I might lose you to someone else.
I loved how real it felt when you broke my heart into a gazillion little pieces. I swear my heart stopped beating for at least a split second.

What a pity being crazy in love has quietly matured into steadfast loyalty and predictable stability.

Or maybe I was the one who screwed it all up.

“And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We’ll both forget the breeze
Most of the time”
~ Damien Rice


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