A lifetime might not be enough...

The inner monologue is yapping. Right now it's using math and logic and dammit I hate math. If the average lifespan of a person nowadays is 60-70, if you're lucky, and I am now 24. If he indeed turns out to be my Prince, then we have 36-46 years to spend together, give or take. It feels as if it's not enough. That I will want to live again if only to experience everything with him again.

That first smile. The mocking. The endearing cockiness. The way he waves off the mosquitoes. The way he tucked my hair to my ear. The way he looked into my eyes, as if he's searching for something. Which, by the way, was really uncomfortable.

I know at one point where ever these feelings lead me to, I would get hurt. It's inevitable. They say you've never really loved if you don't experience the pain. I have to say this now: It will be worth it. I know it will be.