Planted in front of my computer screen, I review the moments I have shared with this man who has just returned home.
Two years, two short years that have not spun that we can not measure its real impact. And considering that the tears that have soaked the collar of my shirt at the moment smell more n'embaumait my room, I finally realized.
The open parenthesis on my lips and wrinkles around the eyes seem to be the marks of all that bind us to one another. The term can certainly seem a bit much, but I mean by "linking" this tender and reassuring relationship that immerses us in the sweetest of Utopias, thousands of miles down the credibility of the prejudices of youth, I feeling that one escapes while both of these ideas of life where love has more taste, more flavor, or flavor. Young, sensitive and perhaps a little blind, this self-persuasion is nevertheless successful. There were certainly tears, cries of pain to die. But pride and anger that we have sometimes shouting words beyond our thought, when this suffering is so intense experienced by a loving heart, and that hope is often lost, never exceeded that fits my breathing to the rhythm of his, and his body fights for mine. And beyond these doubts and the anguish of love sickly smiles are more signs of what we share. Exchanged glances, bursts of laughter, and his hands tighten around my waist at all these moments, we suggests that it is just might be time to believe in this immeasurable love, even if we must fight, and compromise. But just a little levity sometimes, for life is only tenderness and sweetness, a good agreement of you and me.
So I owe my incredible desire to live, my cheeks rosy with happiness and my hope invincible, a single man, which makes me believe in love , as stated B rel, "from the dawn light up at the end of the day".
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