I find us boring with a twist. We are not together, no, physically and romantically. But I am sure that the thing between us sparkles as bright as a red-string tied into our littlest fingers--that is if we are meant to be. We are boring in a way that you like Philosophy while I like Literature; we both don't watch TV; we both hate politics and the news. It is that kind of boredom that keeps us talking every single night. Our 6-hour timezone distance does not hinder us to keep being boring as we talk about boring things. I like you. You are smart, adorable, a dork. I like you. Because you are as boring as I do. I have never written anything like this for a long time. This post may be boring, yes, but as I think of you right now while writing this, it is that kind of boredom that makes me feel like free falling again. Free falling--a way of writing--or free falling--falling free in the depths of love. That sounded boring, didn't it?
