You have an inquiring mind, you're unabashed about being an intellectual, and you're interested in a number of things that interest me... so good conversations.
Plus, underneath all the Brit reserve, you're a thoroughly decent, caring person who wouldn't hurt a fly.
You're funny and warm and feel things deeply. And we see the world in much the same way... it makes me feel safer online, and like I have a real friend in you, even though we only met once and for a very brief time.
The way you see the world from off-centre. You have a unique perspective. Never predictable. And you're a sweetie pie with the cutest giggle of anyone who isn't me.
Oh yes, a new years ego-shmoozing party! I don't have to copy and paste this though, cause there are probably like 3 people who actually read my lj. Let me tell you what I love about you: Your boobs, your wit, your ability to be sentimental and your emotional generosity with other people's sentimentality. And the effortless geschmeidigkeit with which you travel through the years without neglecting your inner teen. By which I don't mean immaturity but rather not becoming mentally ossified. And your gigglishness which makes me wanna come over for a pajama party, crisps included or chips or whatever. And, you know, this whole being there in times of need stuff.
Oh kittyboo. What amazing things to say about me. Thank you, my love.
Ok. You?
Your boobs. :D Your quicksilver mind. Your willingness to risk exposing your deepest hurts and hopes and fears. And your empathy... You. Going to the Frankfurt Holocaust Memorial and finding the graves of Silversteins and placing stones. Before we ever met in person. It still moves me so. I'm tearing up even now.
"Your willingness to risk exposing your deepest hurts and hopes and fears. You mean my total inability to keep something personal, including royal super fuckups, to myself? No, I'm not mystery woman.
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And, what was that other thing? Oh yeah. When the chips* are down, you're there for me.
(*Computer and otherwise)
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I don't see what eating crisps has got to do with anything.
And go on, by all means massage my ego.
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Plus, underneath all the Brit reserve, you're a thoroughly decent, caring person who wouldn't hurt a fly.
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You're funny and warm and feel things deeply. And we see the world in much the same way... it makes me feel safer online, and like I have a real friend in you, even though we only met once and for a very brief time.
Plus? You're a perv. :D
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Ok. You?
Your boobs. :D Your quicksilver mind. Your willingness to risk exposing your deepest hurts and hopes and fears. And your empathy... You. Going to the Frankfurt Holocaust Memorial and finding the graves of Silversteins and placing stones. Before we ever met in person. It still moves me so. I'm tearing up even now.
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You mean my total inability to keep something personal, including royal super fuckups, to myself? No, I'm not mystery woman.
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And the way you see through my not-so-cunning attempts at silk purses.
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