Who is he?

He’s the type of guy who would make me walk on the inside of the sidewalk, step a little bit closer to me as some drunk guy starts shouting at no one.

He’s the type of soul who lays in bed with me, and could talk about anything and everything. He runs his hand up and down my arm, and wants me to rest my head on his shoulder.

He’s the type of guy who kisses me softly and slowly and surely. He pulls me to his chest.

He’s the type of guy who worries when I’m sad and wants me to find comfort within him.

He’s my guy and I don’t want to share him with nobody. Not yet.