"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.
"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...