Having screened through hundreds of movies and I can't help but wonder why scripts make reality differ. Directed with meticulous wordplays and fictictious implementations, a sense of longing sometimes engulfs and consumes. A sense and sin of covet disilluions me and I end up wishing, wishing for a fairytale to transform into something that is life-form.
But it's really simpler than complicated. We're like movie stars, we look perfect, and perfect together. We're in love, and that's the only reason we're fabulous and fabulously complemented.
The past couple of days were nothing less than perfect, and the thing this man and me share is simply nothing less than love. It was nothing extravagant or fancy, just bundles of moments spent together, a one day second childhood rediscovering animals, childish bettings on the match with Spain against Germany and inexpensive sincere gifts. Simplicity covered it all and we're stronger in love, stronger than before. And it'll only get better, I believe it in my bones.
I feel beautiful because he yarps it in my face that I am. I stop crying because he tells me it's his fault instead of mine. I feel blessed, because even his father takes me as one of the family and I love his family. I feel appreciated because he precisely knows things like which perfume I use for whichever moods of whichever days. I feel so much, because he is the man he is that loves me. He's the man who robs the darkness of my skies and paints rainbows over them. He charms me with a light that attracts me like a firefly and he's my sweetest candy in my jar.
So this goes out to you, to me, to us. Thank you for loving me. Happiest first month.
I love you, Bobby Neo Han Wei. (:
