"I'm not sure... What do I do for you?"
You ask me this question, and smiling, I being to type a response. But the smile falls. I quickly find that the answer isn't at the tip of my tongue. Not like it was for you. I start to feel bad.
However, you save me this time. You type a joking response to your own question, and I play along.
But I still can't help but wonder... Had I been given the chance to answer, what would I have said?
I think about it through the rest of our conversation, and even as you sign off for the night, I formulate my response. I'm all too late, though. You've already left.
So now I sit here and wonder. What do you d
He is dark chocolate.
At a glance, he is outspoken.
Some hate him for his bitterness, a hot-blooded, cruel aspect of him, which he would turn to most anyone.
Others love him, seeing past his layer of bitterness. They do not blame him for it, as it is in his nature.
Those who love him have come to know what lies beneath his anger, what is buried. Hidden, but not quite lost.
They love him for the quiet yet recognizable sweetness that lays beneath his sarcastic tone.
He is sweet, despite the fact that many dislike him. This is why she loves him.
She is a cloud.
At a glance, she is peculiar.
Sometimes cumulus, sometimes cumulonimbus. Som