Her definition of romance was absentminded intimacy, the way someone else’s hand stray to your plate of food.I replied: no, that’s just friendship; romance is always knowing exactly where that someone else’s hands are. She smiled and said, there was a time I thought that way, too. But at the heart of the romance is...
I’ll fall.”You wont fall.”I’ll fall. I’ll fall and I’ll die.’As I said it, I could see it happening. The foot stepping on air, pulling the rest of my body with it, tree limbs breaking as I plummeted down. ‘No,’ he said, his voice assured, ‘You’d never do that to me.
You have this ability to find beauty in weird places.
We never actually have serious conversations about anything for more than 20 seconds. So there’s a beautiful superficiality to our relationship which sometimes gets covered up by all the genuine affection flowing back and forth.