What he was in the beginning, you have no idea...

What he was in the beginning, you have no idea. My drove. Constantly strives to touch. Yeah so carefully, you know. Coat set for me — wear back and always will freeze for a second, hands on shoulders with me. In the company all the time got near, loomed directly. I soon see it was not necessary, I already knew that he was close. This is the warmth that he was drawn as the stove. So I said to him and went away from Anton. Went to the heat, Yes. He was very good. Under him wanted to climb under a blanket.

I'm reminded of how it was won. Patiently okay, not pressed in, allowed to get used to. When walking, water for me has always carried with him. I you want to drink — and he has! Think of something all the time, so I was wondering. To him it was better than without it. Wrote me all the time. At all cared about me, it's very much felt.

No sleep at all. I night Wake — and he's not sleeping, looking at me. Sleep, he says, and he smiles, glad that I woke up again with him. And in the morning he did it, like after a separation. Cooked for me. Will put on the table and watches me eat. Himself is forgotten, and it was so delicious.

You know, he's so handsome and then some. It this love it's like just washed. Not a good look there. And smelled him, I can't explain. Also love, I guess. Sometimes, his sweat, literally dripping forehead I and I does not smell, on the contrary — like. Some kind of smell — whether autumn leaves, or warm fur. And moved so easily, like dancing. He danced really — for me, in my honor. It was impossible not to watch.

When did it start? Now can't remember, I guess. I remember I woke up at night and he sleeps. By itself, on the back. He me out of the hands never did, sleep found and embraced, only then calmed down. And there's one okay. I then somehow became chilly, you know, as the wind held out.

And somehow very lonely. Like it here anymore. And nothing at all. I remember you told me that it was always there, farewell music this and that can cover anywhere, even when all is well again.

Then the day came when I didn't get a hug. He stretched and stood up cheerful like this. Shuffled to the bathroom, the water ran. Like ended that dream, and life goes on type, you know? Me then this draught is literally drenched. Over Breakfast, the news began to read. He's reading, and I'm the opposite with my coffee, all alone. No, I have something to read. But I came to him. How is it?

Writes often, Yes. But some nonsense. Type — how you doing? And that's all. As if you have something to write and nothing to say. And to touch I stopped. Somehow, I remember, he sat and read, I just passed by — he didn't notice. So I purposely three times passed by, he never looked up, not even a hand stretched out to touch. And the other day I thought he was in the shower, all sweaty and smells, it is impossible. Said nothing, of course, why.

It will be interesting:

Why do women like bad boys

The courage to love in the power of the soul


You told me that men are all different, I remember. I'm wearing it internally as if married. Now he is warm and calm. That man for this and everything was up to a little fight, Yes, but then so warm and calm. Otherwise why all. But I do not heat. I was warm, while he struggled. If I am not fighting — just what I needed. And if I'm not needed, then why all?

And if he married me internally, as you say, I do not want. I know what it means. It's like you and dad.published


Author: Malka Laurence


Source: saintpetersburg.zagranitsa.com/blog/3081/semeinyi-stsenarii


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