[he's beside me--looking at me and rubbing my stomach. I'm thinking in my mind, "i'd be a cute pregnant woman..."]
[as if he knows what I'm thinking: he smiles, shakes his head and stops rubbing.]
“What’s wrong babe? Why’d you stop and why the smile?”
[he rolls over, kisses my stomach & looks up at me]
*sigh* “one day, imma fill this up.”
[silence..as my stomach clenches uncontrollably with butterflies and the like]
please know that he’s gone home. and I still can’t get over him saying that. and the fact that we were both thinking the same thing. stuff like that scares me. the level of “like” for this guy gets me.
my sensitivity meter is in denial|i’ve been upgraded from “more than like you, less than love you” to “more than like you, almost love you
