“Don’t just say I love you,” I whisper. “Tell me something more than that; tell me something that I’ll remember tonight when I’m missing you.”
He holds my hand in his lap, looks me directly into the eyes and says, “I love you more than the amount of sperm a blue robin makes.”
1. Your Hypochondriac Side Gets Fed More Paranoia Than WebMD.
There’s a mole on your stomach. Hey, I don’t remember seeing that before. You call him up and inform him of this never-before-seen fleck on your stomach. “You should get that looked at immediately,” he will say, in the most worried voice, and you take him extra seriously because he probably knows what he’s talking about. You will cry and plan out your last months on Earth, send him a picture, and then he will tell you that it’s been there forever.
Don’t even get me started…
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