Her dreams automatically become mine, so I think I will tell her I want to marry her and initially I would have found it a silly thought given our young age but I am really convinced that for this kind of thing we should not wait any longer. I love her she loves me so why wait?
Next year I would like to know that she wears a white dress or the color she wants with garters to drive me crazy.
I hope that the priest is as sweet as she is, that she smiles at us as if we have been her friends for a lifetime and not just to marry like many others. It must be very special but above all she must be willing. If you don't accept it, it will break my heart anyway.
But if he says no, I will love him anyway and always.
Sometimes the most beautiful loves start as a game and then become melodies that never go away.
It is raining again but we are inside the house. Sajira is preparing a typical Japanese dessert whose name I can't remember now. I'll ask her later, now I'd like to enjoy the sunrise with her.
I'd like to caress every beat of her heart, and I don't even ask her to stand around without panties because I'm terribly jealous and I don't want others to see her.
And then I seriously changed. Now I'm a good guy. I do it for Sajira, I do it for me. I would do it for my parents if they hadn't died when my mother gave me at birth and my father hadn't died of a heart attack after three months. Can you die at 30? No.
Evidently the doctor had not diagnosed him with the heart and myocardial problem otherwise he would now be healthy and alive.
I feel like crying but I resist and only mention a slight sweetish puff by pulling up with my nose.
Sajira sees me and frowns.
I can never lie with her. He notices everything. It is like a sister or a mother.
It welcomes you into its breath. But it is much more, it is life and love.