He Was Not My Type In the pouring rain. He waited to see me. Outside my small flat day after day. Just to catch a glimpse of me
I told him he was not my type. That I was not interested. But he stayed. I finally gave in and he charmed me. itβs amazing he was so ordinary yet he got to me.
He knew all my moods Happy sad or often broken. He always knew just what to say to send the sadness away. How did he always make me feel so beautiful?.
I donβt know why I married him. Perhaps because he was so gentle and I knew he would never try to control me.
I have lost him now. and my world is not as bright.
There have been other imposters. I danced the choreographed movements of love with them. But when the evening light faded to darkness. It was you honey always you. only you knew how to fix me