Install Steam
sign in
|
language
简体中文 (Simplified Chinese)
繁體中文 (Traditional Chinese)
日本語 (Japanese)
한국어 (Korean)
ไทย (Thai)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
Bahasa Melayu (Malay) BETA
Български (Bulgarian)
Čeština (Czech)
Dansk (Danish)
Deutsch (German)
Español - España (Spanish - Spain)
Español - Latinoamérica (Spanish - Latin America)
Ελληνικά (Greek)
Français (French)
Italiano (Italian)
Magyar (Hungarian)
Nederlands (Dutch)
Norsk (Norwegian)
Polski (Polish)
Português (Portuguese - Portugal)
Português - Brasil (Portuguese - Brazil)
Română (Romanian)
Русский (Russian)
Suomi (Finnish)
Svenska (Swedish)
Türkçe (Turkish)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
Українська (Ukrainian)
Report a translation problem

San Bernardino, California, United States



From the moment my eyes first beheld your magnificent presence, my heart began performing activities that several licensed professionals would probably advise against. Every waking moment, I find myself thinking about you. Every sleeping moment too, which is concerning because it means you've somehow obtained access to my dreams, my subconscious, and possibly my browser history.
The way you move through life with such confidence leaves me breathless. Sometimes I stare at the ceiling at 3 AM wondering if the stars are merely tiny reflections of your greatness. Other times I wonder whether we're legally required to disclose whatever this is to local authorities.
When you smile, time stops. Clocks cease ticking. Birds forget how to fly. Nearby surveillance equipment mysteriously malfunctions. Coincidence? Perhaps. But my heart refuses to believe in coincidence anymore.