I love you when you snore. To me, your snoring sounds like music. Sometimes. Like some melody by Radiohead. Sometimes I listen to you snoring. I giggle before I slap you gently, and you whisper your sheepish, full-of-dreams "'Tschuldigung." Two hours later, it's the same all over again. I love that. I love seeing you wake up in the morning, jumping out of bed, being late for work once again. You and your clothes scattered all over the place. I love watching you pick 'em up one by one, looking for your zigs, your cell and your glasses. The glasses that I keep from you while you wonder where they might be. Seconds before you fall desperate I make you look at me wearing your glasses. The smile you then have on your face is worth a decade. I love you getting out of bed after sex, standing all naked in front of the window. Not having a care in the world, blowing smoke from your nostrils. Watching the night pass by. I see you like in a painting that cannot be sold. I love to watch you dance, staggering around like some adolescent storc enjoying yourself all the way. You're gorgeous at heart. I love your face turning silent, so fully immersed in thought it makes me feel goosebumps all over my body. I love you when you entertain people, being the center of attention and I'm the rock behind you directing the spotlight onto you. I love it when you just are. The kind of person deep down inside you. I love your every febrile. Just love. In essence. Nothing else.

I just wish you'd love me remotely as much as I love you ...