"I love you, darling, and I couldn't live without you! Please, stay!"
That was me hugging and kissing Alfie in sign of peace after a trerrible quarrel over some nosense tonight. We even considered that he would spend the night at a hotel to stay apart, at some crazy point.
"Me too", followed by an onomatopeic sound that I related to satisfaction and relief. "But, wait, hey!" he eclaimed, detaching from my hug a second later. "Are you serious?"
"Of course, sweetie. Do I still look resentful?" Puzzled look of mine.
"Are you sure you're not pretending because you need a babysitter tomorrow?" he insisted.
Well, okay, I'm supposed to spend the day alone with my Estonian penfriend tomorrow, and Alfie is supposed to stay with Ali.
I wondered what it could be like if in 1983 someone had introduced me to this down-to-earth, on-time and traditionalist engineer who is obsessed with hygiene and told me that he would one day be the love of my life. I was in the fifth grade in 1983. I spent my days Studying English, frantically writing essays about life in the US and daydreaming through the universe that was Alex's dream. I had just watched the movie Flashdance, you know.
I opened my mouth to say something but quickly changed my mind. Isn't everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more?