2003-03-15. a rose...
=======
love... It really is a funny thing. It gets into you - and when it gets into you for real, unlike any other time previous, it really gives you this gem this glowing thing deep in the pit of your stomach. You look deep in that persons eyes and feel this rush sweep over you, thinking about how amazing they are and how you can't believe that they actually want to be with you, of all people.

You see the polaroid of your birthday party, your face in the photo is covered in the black icing had emblazened your name across the cake before your friend smashed it all over your face. In the photo, even though you and him are in profile, you can see the smiles as he cradles your face and kisses you, licking off the icing, getting it all over him.

He has the people who he photographs with his polaroids caption them with a red marker so we can always remember the party and the fun and the spirit of that friend (who's usually three sheets to the wind at that point). He captioned that one before I could even consider what to write. He wrote on it My Girl...

He really truly loves me. Like no one ever has and like I could never imagine anyone would. It changes my outlook on life and what I want from it, because I truly know that as long as he and I are together, we can have joy in our lives.

I am lucky - no matter what happens to me...