content: Account Deleted By User She is there, the meal is prepped, she was just waiting for you to walk in the door to start it. Looking at you with Love in her eyes, she demands a kiss before conversation can even begin.  She doesn't ask you how you like your steak. She already knows you like it rare, and well-peppered. You sit down, and she asks you what you would like to drink. You want a Boulevardier, but know that she can't make one, so you ask for a beer instead. She brings it to you, and asks how your day was, but not the way most people ask, not as a meaningless platitude, not as a vacuous conversation filler, but as an actual question, something she has a keen interest in learning. She asks you this because you are actually an interesting man.  You tell her to shut the fuck up and stop making small talk, otherwise she's going to burn the fucking steak, and we all remember what happened last time she burned the steak, how she had to drive me to the hospital, bleeding, because of my three broken knuckles. There is nothing as intoxicating as true love.