I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve anyone, really. I’m sorry that this crazy bastard that I am chose out of all the women in that little store we toil in, it had to be you. Looking from the so-called competition, it was probably obvious why I wanted you. You have such a lovely, albeit rather unkempt, brunette ponytail. You have a perky, lively manner of walking, something that is still quite apparent when you’re waiting in line, always dancing the time away. You have a such a lovely voice. Now granted, you still sound so much like a girl even though you’re a full-figured woman, through and through. Still, it does make you sound quite youthful, though I imagine you’ll lose such voice by the time you hit 40. However, if there is one physical trait that stands out from everything else, it’s your eyes. They’re beautiful, soft, warmth-giving eyes. When I ever see those eyes with that smile of yours, I seriously feel that the vast, multiple troubles and travails in my life are gone. Those irises of milky azure rope me in into some strange, ethereal world since I don’t see many people with such a color. The rest of your countenance then ropes me into a calming mood which in turn completes a sensation that all of the stresses that I had before seeing your smile are someplace else. It really does feel that I may have seen, for a few seconds, a glimpse into heaven.
Interrupting Side Story 1 Start- Sometimes I listen to “Photograph” by Def Leppard whenever I imagine your physical presence. Okay, I try to imagine that tune as your theme song just for the rockin’ themes of infatuation. Yeah, I’m not one for the “contemporary” music of today with its dubstep, hip-hop, techno BS I don’t give a crap about. I’m weird like that. I just like that classic rock from yesteryear. With that in mind, that song of the same name by Nickelback can go to hell!