She follows me around. Or maybe, I bring her around.
I see her at work.
She’s by my side when I sleep.
I love walking with her, and stopping to smell the flowers.
She hangs around.
She opened up my eyes to new horizons. She captivates and captures. She inspires me.
You have no idea how proud I am of her – I can sit and talk to guys for hours about her. They say I’m bordering on obsessive. They don’t know how much more than obsessive it is. She’s always on my mind.
And yet, I introduce her to my guy friends. If they like her too, I am all the more happy.
Likewise, she helps me meet chicks! I can’t tell you how much I take that for granted, that she’s so accomodating.
For she, now she, I really positively love and will feel a strong sense of yearning when I don’t see her, and it saddens me that I do have such a strong dependency on her.
I am not afraid to be seen with her. She sits on my lap on the bus and I shoot a straight face at whoever looks at me with very much a disapproving glance. They’re just jealous.
And here’s another thing to be jealous about – she doesn’t mind polygamy, as long as she knows that I love her the most.
Which comes to another tangent – I… well, I have not had sexual relations with her. Some say it’s very wrong. Am I one to waver to beliefs imposed upon us?