Because you asked me to write

You asked me to start writing again. You told me you miss reading my work. You talked about how great it was during semester when I was all immersed in writing."Write a short story or something, or at least write in your blog" you said.You understand me. You encourage me. I love you for that.


My life has a very different tune these day. I work, work, work. When I have some time off, all I want to do is be with you. I've known you for a little more than 3 months. That is a short but very long time. I've got some amazing memories from our time together. Trip to Sydney, road trips to Queenscliff to buy books, opp-shopping, getting stuck at the library for hours because they had a jigsaw puzzle spread out, available for anyone who cared to have a go, getting to know your amazing friends and family, talks about things that matter, talks about things that don't matter, laughter, so much laughter, things I've never done before, roses, kisses, surprises. So many memories. You are a creative boyfriend, you challenge and surprise me. With you I discover words and sentences for all the feelings I always wanted to express. I've never had a boring moment with you. And I love you for that.

You're learning Norwegian. You're learning it with the same passion and curiosity you throw yourself at books and all new knowledge. You want to know where I came from, you show interest in the background that has made me who I am. When you whisper in my ear: "Du er nydelig kjæresten min", I almost burst into tears, so proud and flattered. And I love you for that.

In bed, we both have a laughing fit because you think the way my lips move when I say "lyset" looks absolutely ridiculous. "Exotically retarded" you call us. You make me laugh. And I love you for that.

You asked me to write, and I could not help it, I wrote about you.