"What is it like? Being in love?" She asked me.
"It feels like you never want to let go actually. I can't help falling in love. We walked in the room and took our seats. Jean decided to sit next to me.
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"What is it like? Being in love?" She asked me.
"It feels like you never want to let go actually. I can't help falling in love. We walked in the room and took our seats. Jean decided to sit next to me.
The year was 1962 when I met the man I would later call my husband.
The man who sits at my bedside, holding my hand as I weakly gaze into the familiar blue eyes that captivated me many years ago... F...