All We Need is Love

March 5, 2007

He was 16, two years my senior, when we met each other. We called each other “bez” - short for best friend - simply because we were. He was the chic-magnet who could stir up a hurricane (maangas, in short), and I was the guy-repelling fat girl who was an annoying smartass. The differences didn’t end there, but then, they didn’t matter much to us. We complemented each other’s personality. Ours was a relationship void of any romantic sparks — though the others thought otherwise.

Continue Reading »

Comments


Got something to say?





Your Ad Here
. . . . . . . . . . . . .