nights like these.
The first night we met.
I was wearing my favorite pink sweater and ripped jeans, you were wearing my favorite shirt of yours.
You sang Lucero and we talked about politics, music and what dorks we were.
Your phone rang... nonstop. You stopped answering it after a few hours.
It was cold, I wore a scarf. You were not wearing flipflops.
We went to Subway and that is when I knew, we clicked.
You told me you usually hate everyone... I guess I am an exception.
Things are perfect. Better than perfect. I love everything.
I feel complete. I feel happy...
Thank you.
I love you.