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Does she want a knight in shining armor to sweep her away like a princess in a fairy tale? I can’t be her knight. But I can be her king.
The weird fluttering feeling low in my stomach—that I’m starting to learn is in fact metaphorical butterflies—happens again. I know this because I googled it to make sure there wasn’t anything medically wrong with me. “Actually, she’s stalking me.”
I’m not a religious man, but goddamn if she didn’t make me want to drop to my knees in worship.
It makes me want to cradle him tight and tell him he doesn’t have to be so strong all the time. Because strong doesn’t bend, it breaks.
