with practise, he learns to take photos everywhere with me, even on the steps out of the station at harbourfront center; doing stupid stuff.
and i often get angry with him cos he can be such a 'softie' sometimes. and that's when i forget how fierce he can be.
and then i realise, it's possibly he's just got a huge soft spot for me.
and he's got those dreams. that he let go, for me. his bike, that i have too faint a heart for. his plane, that i've always stereotypically associate pilots with players. and now, his hair. and i know, i cant and i shouldnt, and i wont, take the possibly last one from him.
and we have dreams. of cos. all couples have dreams...
and today we had one fulfilled. our first, and a very perfect valentine's together. despite feeling like i'm gonna collapse from exhaustion, from crying my eyes, and possibly heart, out as we watch p.s. i love you. from the start to the end of the show, i cried, cried like a pussy. because, death, not as foreign as alzheimier; could take us away from each other. because, watching the show made me realise how i'd possibly never be ready to lose him. because, seeing how the couple seem all too familiar to the both of us.
and i wish i've biggers words, beautiful literature to express how i feel for you. but i've none, except 'i love you's. and i hope those are enough to last a lifetime.