Be it the moon, the stars, the surreal clouds by night.
Be it the sun by day, the passing angels, and the feeling of serenity in the air then.
Be it the content feeling of beauty from fulfillment.
Be it the true warmth of a mother's love to her baby...
None of this, except God’s infinite mercy, can compare to what it feels like to have you,
and how much happiness I want to give you,
save for the promises...
I love you, honey.
You're my woman, my everyday crush, my everyday love.
I miss you, boo—
every day, every passing second, every heartbeat...
Maybe you should count yours.
I love you... A lot
Maybe it's childish to wish you'd take up my name.
Maybe I’m only a dreamer,
'cause all I really see is marrying you,
and I know I’m not up to the task yet.
Maybe I just want you too damn much,
even when I know you’re mature and see life from a more direct angle.
Yet, I don't just see you as someone I want to make my lover, my girlfriend, my wife...
I’m in love with you, deadpoint in love with you.
I miss you when you’re not here.
Please don’t leave me.
Please come home.
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