I had a very nice evening last night with a very nice man; that made me felt nice, so I was so very nice.
We watched a musical, had an elegant yet rustic Italian meal, and strolled around with our hands locked.
It was nice.
We spent the night in the nicest way ever. It was typically romantic and slightly exhausting. But it was, nonetheless, nice.
I woke up in sunny niceness the next day. Then, I broke down and cried from being piously nice all the time.
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So it was a dream?
So it was a dream?
haha you still read my blog ah!