Tell me why you like me.
Because I do.
Tell me. Tell me, please?
Tell me why you like me when I don’t even like myself?
Kiss my forehead, stroke my hair, tell me why you still put up with me.
Because you said you wanted that purse in beagle.
Because two years ago you sent me a picture of a little girl wearing a dog shaped purse and you said she looked so happy. And you asked me if you got that purse if you’d be happy.
I said yes.
And you said, I want it in beagle.
And the thought of you running around in your heels and flowy dresses wearing a dog purse to make you happy made me smile for days.
That’s why I like you.
Because you’re weird and you’re funny and you’re cute.