It’s not the food we eat, it’s who helped me cook it. πŸ™‚

It’s not the fancy place we’ve been, It can be as simple as a rooftop filled with satellites tuning into us.

It’s not the weather, I really feel the warmth when I’m with you.

Its not the long walk home, It’s how your hand perfectly fits into mine while walking.

It’s not the complicated things we discuss, It’s how we try to solve it.

It’s not the bus going home, It’s the feeling that I’ll be missing you each time I ride one.

It’s not the rain that soaked us wet, It’s the small black umbrella we shared.

I’ve been doing quite well lately, I have my reasons. Those reasons cannot be understood by many, as I can be burned at the stake if they judge me.

The past week has been great, conversations and small sweet things meant a lot to me. If this is a dream, please don’t wake me up, I’d rather spend my time dreaming than wake up to complete nothingness.

Life was harsh, we both know that. It’s as if our souls suffered the same fate in our past lives.

She stares into the night, while I stare in her eyes. I watch her closely as if we are bound by the cold mist that surrounds us.

I’m happy now. So… Happy πŸ™‚