This is my guy
On another day, when we were about to sleep, he softly stroke my forehead. Exactly the spot in the center of my both eyes and told me to sleep. After that, he would kiss me good night and fell to sleep.
On another lovely day, he would run across the room to me, bringing his drawing. Most of them were sketches of cars. Sometimes he drew the car in front of the house, under the stormy rain, on its way down the volcano, and sometimes he added me in his sketch. He always put me in skirt with red color. He said I am more beautiful if I wear skirt. Then he asked me to twist myself around like a ballerina and so my skirt would bloom like an umbrella.
On another busy street or malls, he would held my hand as if he would never let go of me. As if he said "This is my girl, don't mess with her."
There were times when I got tense because of him. After saying blatant things and the consequence he must take, I would usually left him for a while. He would stare, just stare at me. Suddenly he hugged me and cried. At that time, I knew he was saying sorry with his own way.
There were also some moments when he accidentally hurt me. "Sorry sorry!" and he would kissed my bruise right away.
Oh well, ... guess I am the luckiest girl to have a man like him. I am so very lucky. And I thank those people who taught my son to treat me like a princess, because I know these things will not happen instantly. He would not act these out of the blue, because kids are good in mimicking and I always grateful if he mimicked good and sweet things.
I love you Malicca, ... I don't know how would my life be without you.