I love him- and all of his traits. All his qualities, as well as all the things that make me tick. When he was setting up my bed the other day, as I saw the skin on his hands become pink as he disassembled the parts, I felt upset. It hurts to see him hurt. I ran out to get him some Samosas and I'm glad he enjoyed having them. I wanted to be in his arms for a little longer and fall asleep with my head on his chest. I miss his scent, his beard, his whiskey brown eyes, his sweet, although full of air, words. I miss the way he kisses- for me, nobody else's kisses even come close.
The sight of him takes my breath away- it doesn't matter if he's covered in grease or sweat. I painfully miss his lovemaking.
No, I can't write as well as Mr. Writer, but I mean every word when I say "I love you".
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