For the Record...

I love the way he holds my hand - fingers intertwined.

I love the way he unabashedly went with me to get sanitary pads at the drugstore.

I love the way he cycles and randomly does tricks trying to impress goodness-knows-who.

I love the way he would put his hand behind my head to protect me from bumping my head when we're kissing.

I love the way he would use his thumb to mindlessly draw circles/caress my hand.

I love the way that we're so alike in our values sometimes, even though we come from half a world apart.

I love the way he would thank me for cooking for him, and that he tells me it's delicious.

I love that he is not afraid to tell me when it doesn't taste good too.

I love the way he always chooses to please me rather than himself first.

I love the way he likes to embarrass me sometimes by shouting out random (embarrassing) stuff.

I love the way he looks into my eyes and tells me "you're beautiful".

I love the way he tells me he likes and wants his back caressed and even scratched.

I love the way he smiles that half-smile.

I love the way he wakes up to me and coos "Baby...".

I love the way he was comfortable enough to fart in front of me (really loud too! haha!) but then was still embarrassed after that.

I love the way he's so cheesy, but I still laugh at everything he says.

I love the way he looked me in the eye and said not to mention Break Up that day because he had a dream about it and was sincerely scared.

I love the way he constantly thinks of songs - no matter from a photo (of me), or something I say, we say, or something that we did.

I love that he likes all the food that I've introduced to him so far.

I love the way he explains things when I don't know what they are - and does so patiently, and not in a patronising manner at all.

I love that I feel comfortable enough to put down my pride and admit I don't know things in frontof him.

I love the way he teases me about being puyopuyo but in such a gentle way that I know he really doesn't mind.

I love the way he makes an effort to pepper his messages to me with emoticons and cute stuff.

I love that I feel comfortable enough to put down my shields and feel/act/be cute when I'm with him.

I love that I can play sports and 'be' relatively strong, and feel as though not only does he not mind but he seems halfway proud of it too.

I love the way he seemed to let this surge of emotions overtake him and how he's not at all shy in letting me know about it.

I love the way he dances and grooves to music without heed of what others might think.

I love the way he takes note of whatever I say I dislike and then tries not to do them.

I love the way he'd initiate and do the dishes because I've mentioned before that I don't like doing those!

I love the way we sometimes end up dancing and swaying to good music.

I love the way he's open to listening to music from me too.

I love the way he naturally just carries my bag for me sometimes.

I love that we have the same taste sometimes - his wallet, my small square bag.

I love that he chooses to have me squeeze with him every night (and not sleep well).

I love that he tells me "you don't have to do it if you don't want to" and mean it even when we're right in the middle of it.

I love that I can roll over and fall asleep and he will not mind at all; instead he strokes my hair till I enter dreamland.

I love that he will check if I'm cold, need water, etc.

I love his honesty. Bluntness even.

I love that he was not afraid to ask me a question like that. "Have you ever --- before?"

I love that he seems to appreciate so much every little thing I do for him.

I love that he seems so excited to tell me that he's told his friends and family about me.

I even love the way he's always trying to take a good picture of me - an altogether almost impossible task.

I love the way he makes me feel like spending 24/7 with just him, and not feel bored.

I love the way he's so excited about cooking too.

I love that he likes to cuddle; and that he responds emotionally more than physically.

I love that he tries to make me jealous sometimes.

[surely to be continued]

Edited 27/1/2012:

I love the way he did not mind hoisting my leg up on his and wiping my muddy boots for me.

I love that he bothers to take notice of what I'm wearing most days and tell me I'm elegant/cool/metro/cute/etc.

I love that he came into the kitchen after 20 mins saying he missed me.

I love that he just went through his life in pictures with me.

I love the time when he just piggy-backed me up the very long flight of steps at the playground in the park.

I love that he looks me in the eye each day and tells me "I love you" in various ways. Every day.

~ st*rcr*ss*d ~