“Do you find her pretty?” a close chap asked me out seriously one time in the mid of our just-for-boys-night-out drinking session.
There was not a name mentioned.
But I knew who he was referring to.
My lips arked downward by that question.
You’re not pretty.
But you are the most beautiful girl that registered my cornea. Ever. (Well my mom’s the most beautiful woman, so you couldn’t ask ‘what about her’.)
Now seriously, I used to swear to myself that I’d never sincerely fall for a girl.
You made me forget and break that promise, though.
I love you, Kath. I’m crazily, madly, badly in love with you.
Would you ever feel the same?
Well, I’ll never know unless I muster my courage and tell you.
Tomorrow, I sure will.