Chapter 7

LISA POV

I can be obnoxious and arrogant. You always tease me why I have such a small face for a very big head. Being a dancer helps , I guess. I always have to appear fierce in front of people. Some may say I'm fearless but that's not true. I'm afraid of a lot of things, I'm just good at hiding it.

I am confident but I'm not exempted from insecurities. Living in a foreign country does that to you, questioning whether I'm good enough, whether people will see me beyond my skin and as a person. So yes, I do have bad days when I feel so inadequate, so undeserving.

I had three relationships, serious relationships that ended with all of them leaving me. There must be something in me that isn't worth staying for, something about me that made it so easy for them to leave me. There are days that I'm terrified you'll find that something...

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"How much do you love me?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"A good one?"

"Why are you being weird all of a sudden?"

"Forget it. It' my time of the month."

It's a time when insecurities come rushing within me. Doubt filling mind, voices telling me I'm not good enough.

My dark thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly hugged me from behind.

"Remember when Bobby said that if we we're in a sinking ship and had only one person to save, I'd save Dalgom?"

"Yes I remember, though Dalgom isn't technically a person. What about it?"

"He's wrong. I'd probably drown saving both of you."

"Are you saying I'm now as important as Dalgom?"

You just nodded and tighten your hold on me. Only people who knows you can understand how big that is. Dalgom is your life and to be as important as him is like being ranked as God.

"God, I love you." I never uttered truer words

"Ask me again." You whispered.

"How much do you love me?"

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints.

I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death." The words were uttered with so much reverence. You tightened your hold on me and kissed my shoulders. I felt your love resonate with in my heart and soul.

"Did you write that?" 

You lightly chuckled and pat my stomach,

"I probably have to teach you more poetry. It's Sonnet 43 by Elizabeth Browning." 

"But I bet she couldn't say it the way you said it." I said cheekily turning my head to see your face.

"I may not be the one to write it, but I mean it. I may not tell it to you always but every time I look at you, that poem always comes to my mind."

"I-" And I couldn't help but shed a tear.

You know that moment when you feel you couldn't ask for anything more? That was that moment for me.

"Are you crying?"

"Shut up. I wasn't kidding when I said it's my time of the month. I'm emotional and it was beautiful."

"I bet you didn't even understand it."

"Well, at least I felt it."

"Haha. You big baby c'mon I'll make you hot chocolate and we'll watch Tangled."

"Plus cuddles?"

"Plus cuddles."

Love will forever be the most precious thing in this world. But the thing is love and my world are fused into one.

You.

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