Love didn't require me to be a gastronome to be with my man. I only had to be hungry for it. :) From then on, famish is just a word.
You are the one. You are the only. You are my all. You are my everything.
Happy birthday, sweetheart!
***
Preparing this morning's coffee reminded me why my husband stands by his seeming logic for not showering me with flowers, as most romantics would do. I had at one point been the nag for an answer-- not for flowers. No, really. My string of questions was answered with a string of reasons from him, which made me sympathise him somehow-- and then, fall for him far better than I already have. It made me learn to respect this romantic, and most especially to prepare myself for his unusual ways.
Then one day, he gave me this cup, which at first sight seemed to scream, "Now, shut up!" Everyone who's seen it reckons it's an unusual way to receive a bouquet. Hahaha! Nah, it's my everyday rose, my everlasting flower. Forever in full bloom, it makes every day Valentine's Day for us. And every cuppa is an extra special cuppa.
my cup of love ever-flowing
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