So, I went to see Amy and was showing off my new camera. I noticed that, for some reason, the picture was clearer when I pointed the camera at the floor than when I, for example, pointed it at her. I said, "Well, I could take a beautiful picture of my feet."
She said I should do that, then, so I did:
I showed her the picture, and she said, "With your legs crossed and those loose pants, it looks like you've been kidnapped and your kidnappers have restrained you by wrapping you in a tartan rug, and you've somehow gotten one hand free and are sending this picture to your rescuers as a clue to your whereabouts."
And see, no one else in the world would've thought of that, which is one of many reasons I love her so much. She's just wired delightfully differently from everyone else.
2 comments:
please forgive my paranoia, but don't ignore it completely.
*who's sayin i'm strange?*
You do. And you worry about it. You worried about it on Sunday night, and it isn't the first time.
And what I'm saying is, I love you precisely because you aren't like anyone else.
I know I'm not the only person that matters. That's just how I feel about it.
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