Dear Lemon Boi,
I love you.
How do I not love him?
From the moment I wake up, he is on my mind and in my thoughts. Wishing him morning is now a priority when I wake up. Talking to him all day long makes time slow down and speed up without notice. The sun is brighter, even for the girl who doesn't like sunshine so much. There is a permanent smile on my face and my heart. His face is just perfect. Just perfect, I tell you. With him, the love flows naturally. It asserts itself in the face of many objections on my part.
His voice sounds poetic to me. Especially when he sings, you know. He is the perfect size for a bear hug.
More than all of that, he is sort of the character that I would have found lurking in a novel somewhere. The kinds that my mind and heart both rapidly lend themselves to. He is my 42, the one who gives me perspective. He knows how to calm me down in my hyper-paranoid state. Just right now, he was talking in a silly punjabi sort of accent to cheer me up.
Why would I ever want to stop loving him?