Time has a way of dying. It slips by. Quietly slithering away. Slowly sucking the breath out of life.
Lately however, time has been my friend. Skipping by happily. Singing its sweet melody about memory lane.
Why? Why is time such a companion? What could change the monotonousness drone into a lively brook?
Love.
Love makes everything better. Time in love has a way of soaring, flying. Like a kite free of cumbersome strings.
I am in love. With whom you might say? Only the best. For I will settle for nothing less. Like a picky four year old nibbling at her dinner plate. I only choose the best. Only the worthy. And out of the yucky vegetables, I have found my yummy prize.
Caring, truthful, humorous, gentile, loyal, intellectual, macho, sweet, handsome, and all my own.
What other girl has that? No one.
Time is happy, and love is sweet.
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