Thinking about her makes me weak. Wrapped up in her arms is exactly where I belong. When I think about her, sometimes I feel so much love that I could cry. How did I get to be the luckiest girl in the world? Anywhere could feel like home, as long as I had her arms around me. I feel like I just discovered one of life’s biggest secrets. I’m so lucky. The world around me is colored with her love.
Memories I love: Sharing alpaca steak in Peru, noticing how beautiful she looked standing at the train station, running to her house covered in sweat last summer, waking up at 2PM, leaving her a note and wandering around her neighborhood, coming home to her smiles every day, cuddling close in the Fremont, not ever finishing the romantic comedy we started, pulling her down on the floor with me, sitting in her lap while drinking wine, pulling her closer in to me at The Cafe in San Francisco, taking road trips with her down south, stopping at Starbucks, grabbing In N Out, waking up early to go to Peru, seeing her go to bed early in my bed, smiling seeing how peaceful she looked, being surprised by her taking me to see The Phantom of the Opera, dancing with her in the Castro, noticing how sexy (and adorable) she looked swaying next to me, not seeing anyone else in the club but her, kissing her all night, having tea with her at Samovar, getting a text from her even though she was right next to me, cuddling closer to her in the middle of the night, walking up Bernal hill together, kissing her, working from home together on Fridays, seeing her smile, lean over, and kiss me, going to Love Sushi with her, wine drenched sunset nights in Carmel, fuzzy romantic memories, noticing how breathtaking she looked at dinner at the Foreign Cinema…
