october 11th, 2002 / 11:43 p.m.

it's not roses or chocolate, poetry or jewelry.

it's a kind word, a look, a touching of the hand

it's the things you have never said, the feelings you've never expressed

it's late nights talking about nothing. it's late nights talking about everything.

it's falling asleep in my arms, then being mad cause i can't stop staring at your sleeping face (it's angelic, i tell you)

it's knowing exactly the right thing to say at the exact right moment.

it's being exactly who you are when you're being yourself

(it's called knowing you're in love)

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