It takes two.

Two is a very special number. It's the most special number.

The most life-like things come in two's..

Limbs.

Headlights.

Lovers.

I want to be a lover.
But I want to be a fighter, too.
I want to fight for the love I feel.

And I want to kiss someone who knows just how to kiss me. And laugh with someone who knows just how to laugh with me. And cry with someone who knows just how to cry with me. And travel with someone who knows just how to travel with me. And dance with someone who knows just how to dance with me. And sing with someone who knows just how to sing with me. And live with someone who knows just how to live with me. And be infinite with someone who knows just how to be infinite with me.

And love someone who knows just how to love me.

And I hope we get married.
On a cloudy day.
And I want him to throw his fist in the air. Like John Bender on the Breakfast Club.
Because he got me.

We'll be two lovers. Lover 1 and Lover 2. We'll make red body suits that say that on them and prance around with crazy blue wigs on if we please.
Which we probably won't please, but we may be tickled at the idea.

And we'll be so romantic.
And he'll cover my eyes and surprise me with things like picnics and puppies and paintings and I'll make him breakfast in bed simply because I love him and he loves me and we love maple syrup. And he'll mow the lawn while I make spaghetti and we'll slurp it until our mouths meet and we'll laugh until our chairs fall over. And he'll read Shakespeare to me so that I can fall asleep. Because the man that loves me will always make sure I'm asleep before he is. And he'll kiss my nose, and I'll pretend I was too asleep to notice. And we'll paint the walls yellow and paint the front door blue and paint the town red and we'll be all the colors because we're together.

And we will be lovers.
Two crazy, giddy, carefree, undeniably happy lovers.

For eternity.