I was having a blissfully private moment last night when Jazz came in.
I had just baked a chocolate cake (very Stepford Wives) and was devouring the leftover mix (very horrendously mucky 3 year old) when Jazz unexpectedly got home. Like a deer caught in headlights I looked up at him guiltly when he stepped into the kitchen. There was no horror at the fact I had chocolate all over my face. In fact he laughed, walked over, gently wiped the chocolate away with his thumb and kissed me.
It's moments like this that make me realise why I'm with him. Despite everything there's a lot of love there. It may have turned from sheer passion into comfort and companionship but it is love all the same. Nevertheless, I'm sorry, Mr McCartney, but love really isn't all you need.












2008-04-18 @ 17:25