More than the selfie photos we post on Instagram
More than the fats/calories we try to burn
More than the guiltless angel's burgers and other street
foods we eat
More than the fresh buko juice we drink after meals
More than the chords and lyrics we argued when we’re making
music
More than the times I slept in your arms every time we watch
movies at night
More than the countless hair falls we have on my apartment
More than the hotpots we shared on 711
More than the indie gigs we have by request
More than the stored value tickets we lost
More than the happy trips we had with the kids
More that the shameless words of endearment on public
More than the blissful Sundays we attend at my or your
church
More than the Mediterranean foods we tried to cook and puked
afterwards
More than the unlimited shots we spent for my photo
portfolio
More than the great albums we downloaded and shared to each
other
More than the clumsiness you do every day that you never
admit
More than the inside jokes we shared (like the title of this
blog)
More than your awkward hand gestures when you talk
More than your girly tantrums that made me more patient
More than your metaphoric text messages that lingers before
I sleep
More than your reluctant running routine
More than your tight hugs before you go home
More than your random kisses on my forehead
Our overflowing love covers all imperfections.
I want to do more things with you, Mamad.
Happy Anniversary.
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