Sunday, March 13, 2011

Sunday mornings

Where we wake up and lie in bed talking.
I love that about you. I love that I can do that with you, that I do that with you.
And for hours and hours, at that.
Until we find ourselves famished, and dozey and fighting a losing battle against inertia.

"Do you ever worry that you'll run out of things to talk about with her?" The Little Creature asked me, over Bee Hoon.

I've asked you that before. In fact, I think you've asked me that before too.
"Nope," is my reply.
Because just as we've spent hours lazying about talking endlessly about things, we've also spent hours just sitting around and not saying a thing.

You're perfect.
And I love you.

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