There’s just no song on this earth, and no playlist big enough, to tell him that I truly love him. I love him when his eyes are black, and when his eyes are blue, and although I know—deep down—that he doesn’t believe I’m here to stay—one day, I swear one day I will make him believe me.
“Play me a song.”
“Just give me back my brain first.” He laughs and tweaks my nose. “Play me one of your sassy anti-love songs.”
“There’re so many, I don’t even know where to start.”