The kind of love

When we walk on the street and you fall. I will not laugh. I will not help you up. I will lie down next to you.

Never miss an opportunity to make you laugh.

When you come home on a really bad day. I make you a bath. Sit on the floor and make you tell me all the stories about your childhood friends and enemies.

You have that ugly-green stretched-out sweater and that gray ragged joggers you only wear on those days. And I still see you beautiful.

I give you a good-night kiss every day. Except when you are mad. Those days two on both cheeks.

I want this kind of love.