No, my love. It's not the way you turn a deaf ear to when I speak. I've realised that you do listen. You just pretend not to - What we have is a little bit of a fairytale.
No, my love. It's not the way you don't find me witty - I've learnt that our senses of humour are different.
And no, my darling. It's not the way you pick on my flaws - I've understood that you love me despite them.
What we have is a part of a story,
a taste of a slightly star crossed romance,
mixed in a half written sad song
written on pages with blue ink,
carried away in the wind.
It's beautiful,
it's a little broken,
but it's strong enough
to stand on it's own.
Just like us.
