Witty Profiles

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It had been one of those days.
You worked.
I was off,
waiting for you to get home.
Jacob was curled up in a ball around my legs and I was sitting on the floor with my back to the couch.
Finishing a book.
It was the best book I had read in a long, long time
It's words sucked me in.
The characters were me,
and in some ways I lived through them.
The pages had only ever been read by me, it was a brand new book when I bought it a week ago.
But now the cover was worn and I broke the spine the way all good books deserve to be broken in.
It was kind of a heartbreaking thought to put this book down. 
I didn't want to let it go, I didn't want for it to be over.
It was so beautiful to me and I wanted it to last forever. 
It wasnt until I started hiccuping like a small child, 
when I realised I was crying.
Sobbing.
Uncontrollably.
In a twisted sort of way this book had a hold of me the way some people in my life do.
I gently placed it on the floor next to me and attempted to gain a solid grip on reality.
Then I heard the keys jingle against the doorknob and I looked up just as you opened the door.
You looked so confused at first. 
But as you took in my glasses, throw blanket and sleeping Jacob,
your eyes trailed down to my book that I had placed cover side down.
You quickly closed the door behind you.
Put your coat on the hook.
Slid off your shoes,
and sat down in front of me.
"Was it a sad one?"
"No...It was a happy one." 
"Oh." 
Your face was so beautiful. Even now I still caught myself staring at it. 
The strong slope of your nose and your steady eyes always got to me.
Your hair hung in your face and around your ears and I really wanted to reach and smooth it out.
I wiped my tears off with the sleeve of my sweater
and leaned forward on the heels of my feet to hug you around the neck.
Inhaling deeply I can catch all scents of you. Your hair is always the strongest.
I always smell it first. 
Then its your skin.
One of my hand grips the back of your neck and the other is reached around, burried in your hair.
Twirling it around my fingers has always been relaxing for me.
As you hug me back all thoughts of my broken heart are gone.
The words that shattered my world a few minutes ago dont mean anything now. 
Books were my first love.
But you will be my last love. 
You lean back and look at me.
"All better?"
"All better. I love you." I mumble and look away, over your shoulder.
Suddenly Im shy.
You have that effect on me sometimes.
You say," I love you more."
as you run your index finger along the bridge of my nose.





















 
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It had been one of those days. You worked. I was off, waiting

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