"I was desperate." I recalled, a simper of a smile crossed my face. I quickly hid it. This was an issue, not anything to smile about.
"Desperate to fit in, desperate to get a new start, desperate to not feel insecure. That's the whole reason I came to London in the first place. I was desperate, and then I met you and everything changed."
At this he smiled. Not his usual toothy grin, the kind that warmed my spirits. Yet a smile to hide his sadness. This I had seen before and it chilled me to the bone.
Our love story was not simple, it was desperate.