Oops! Questa immagine non segue le nostre linee guida sui contenuti. Per continuare la pubblicazione, provare a rimuoverlo o caricare un altro.
And I want to fall like snowfall
just to melt on your pillow
Oops! Questa immagine non segue le nostre linee guida sui contenuti. Per continuare la pubblicazione, provare a rimuoverlo o caricare un altro.
The day you asked me out was one of the happiest days of my life.
We were eating lunch together in the shade of the oak tree. I never liked eating in the cafeteria. Too many people, too many food smells. And who knows whose saliva is on what table?
I was working through a PB and J sandwich - which is, the best and only sandwich I will ever eat - when you turned to me, and asked, without preamble, "Will you be my girlfriend?"
I nearly dropped my sandwich.
It wasn't the most romantic proposal I had ever heard, and definitely not how I imagined it happening. I was sure I heard incorrectly. So I just stared at you, wanting but not daring to believe my ears.
You nodded slowly and took another bite out of your sandwich.
I peeked over at you, and although your expression remained stoic, the tips of your ears were flushed.
Only one word could accurately describe your appearance at that time: cute.
That sight knocked me out of my stupor. "Okay," I said.
Now it was your turn to stare. "What did you say?"
"Okay."
I wish you could've seen your face then. You were blushing so hard, I worried there was too much blood rushing to your head.
"Okay, okay, great, wow, okay, whew," you muttered, and you were so damn adorable, I couldn't help it. I swept in and kissed you.
A gust of wind blew past us, sending my hair flying all over my face. Then you pressed my head gently onto your shoulder, letting my hair whip your cheeks.
An oak tree, a sandwich, a summer breeze; that was the day you asked me to be your girlfriend. Not much, but enough for me.
You got a lot better at being romantic as our relationship went on. Sometimes, I think that's a bad thing.
