It doesnt have to be on Valentines Day. It doesnt have to be by the time you turn eighteen or thirty-three or fifty-nine. It doesnt have to conform to whatever is usual. It doesnt have to be kismet at once or rhapsody by the third date.It just has to be. In time. In place. In spirit.It just has to be.
Our love was covered in fur yet I was the only one who wanted to pet it.