What is jealousy made of?

I have no interest in becoming a Brit, it's just the place I want to be now.

In my muddy shoes in Edinburgh,
you kept me from falling on my face.

I never quite know what set me apart for him,
but I always know what sets him apart.

He loves me so, so, so much.

(I love him too, but I fail in showing it.)

Will I one day gather the courage and say

"Fuck it, let's go away and get married."

?

This post might make everyone vomit due to cheesyness, so be warned.


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Ah. I am so hopeless. ~_~