My boyfriend is not only my boyfriend. He can be one thousand things to me, he can be whatever I need and want, or what he wants and needs.
He is my diary. I gift him my every day and let him know what life I'm living right now, without him. He thanks me by giving me his day, letting me know how he's been doing.
He is my doctor. He asks for my health, helps me more then he thinks and manages to cure me while being 1000 km away from me.
He is my poet. He speaks of things many people can only think of. Even the most experienced writers can write like him, maybe better. But nobody of them can understand what they write like he can.
He is my artist too. He doesn't draw by what he sees on me, but by what he feels for me. That makes him the best artist there could be. Rare are people who can draw with feelings, like my boyfriend.
He is my inspiration. When I’m stuck one picture or thought of him makes me get a rush of feelings, so strong that I can create only relying on them.
He is like my father; he cares about me and wants me to be safe. I can rely on him, he has golden hands and he’s there to make me smile.
He is like my brother. I can joke with him, I can enjoy every moment with him, mess without being afraid that he’ll take it for bad. I can share a pizza with him. I can know that he will tell me what’s good for me in his own kinky ways.
He is my best friend-not the friend-zone way. I can cry on his shoulder, I can talk to him. He will try his best to make me smile. He’s always there for me.
He is my window to the world. I can see the whole world in his eyes.
He is my dungeon -I've been trapped in his heart for a long time now. I am his dungeon too.
He is my owner. He owns my heart. I take everything he says to me, I listen to him not because he makes me to, but because I want. Because making him feel good and/or feel pleasure gives me pleasure too.
He is my slave. I can make him weaker or order him. He won’t do it because I ordered it. He’ll do it because he loves me. I won’t order it because I want him to be my slave. I would order him because I want him to be my slave for a while, so I can pay him back later and be his slave.
He is a wild animal. I am his prey.
He is young by his body and old by his mind. Mature and young make some effect on his soul, making him experienced and full of life at same time.
He is my sin. I would break any rule for him, not because I am a rebel and want to cause mess, but because our love is an ultimate rule over any other.
He is my religion and my God. I prey to him and I know that he can help me for sure. His body is my holy book. His lips are my saint food. Every day with him is my religious holiday.
He is my music. His voice is better than any sound known to men, his whispers are gentler then any sound a harp can make.
He is my food and drink. His smell, his taste can keep me alive. I can life for this, for it is not only my food, but also a pleasure for him.
Our eyes are our language. We can only look into each other’s eyes and understand each other better than two people from same country, same street who speak every day and talk at one afternoon. Because we don’t listen our words, but our souls.
He is my drug and my alcohol. He can make me forget all my problems. The thing is, he won’t just put me into an illusion. He can actually solve them; he can make them disappear for real.
He is my cigarette; addiction like no other. I am in his claws now; there is no escape.
He is my calendar. With him, I track my days, he makes me realize what time passed and we’re still together. He gives me hope.
He is my unexplored country. His body and his mind, no matter how long I have them, still keep secrets for me to discover.
He is my teacher. Teacher of life. I rely on him to teach me everything he knows, and that’s not the thing you can find in books. I am trying to be the best student and learn everything.
He is my heater. Even when he’s not with me, he warms me up during long, cold nights.
He is my movie. My action, my thriller, my romance.
He is not Michael Jackson. He cares if it’s black or white. I still like this fun, racist side of him.
He is my dream father - of my child. With his bravery, good soul and being the example like no other, he’ll be an awesome daddy.
He is my Bittersweet Symphony. I love his both sides and want them both in him; he’d be a different person if anything changed in him. From time to time, I wish he’d see that...
He is my protector. Even when I’m hurt, injured or weak, I know he’s with me and it makes me stronger. He reaches into my soul, takes me and pours his strength into me.
He is my greatest weakness. He is the only person worth my tears and my pain. He is also the only one who can make them go away. With a reason.
He is my fantasy. I can share my fantasies with him, deepest ones, and he does same. He lets my soul run free and he runs together with it.
He is my fortune. With him and in his embrace, I am richer than any person is. His soul can’t be paid with diamonds, money, or any mortal things. His soul is divine.
He is my blood. I can feel him, his presence and his soul in every part of my body.
He is my sight; my eyes. With him, I see the whole world much clearer. With him, I would never wander in dark alone.
He is my healer and my lustful wish. I don’t share only my soul, but my body with him too. I am not afraid of it. I belong to him. He belongs to me.
He is my youth. I feel strong, agile and unstoppable when I’m with him. He gives me wings on which I can fly and feel free.
He is every of the seven sins and I don’t regret any of them. He is my Pride when I think of him. My Greed when I think of his masculine, strong body. My Gluttony when I reach it. My Lust when I get it. My Sloth when I lie on long mornings with him in bed, wishing it was like that forever. My Envy when I take him as my teacher and want from him to teach me everything he knows. My Wrath when I am fighting for him.
He is every single Element for me. He’s Fire in bed, calm as Water, free as the Nature (Earth) itself, swift as the Wind. Strong and reliable as Metal.
He is my lucky charm. I feel the glimpse of luck whenever he’s near, and it keeps me safe and positive-minded.
He can be Afraid; that’s why I’m near to hold him and tell him everything’s fine.
He can be Brave; he is an unseen fighter fighting with body and soul.
He can be Angry; he protects what he loves and makes everybody see it.
He can be Happy; I am happy to share any moment with him, but his happiness is one of the things I live for.
He can be Sad; then I’m there to cry with him and let him know he’s never alone.
He can be Lustful; as we usually are together in it, I love to fulfill his wishes. It’s an honour to make him enjoy and feel happiness and satisfaction. Both of body and mind, of course.
He can be Optimistic; I am there to help him fulfill his dreams.
He can be Pessimistic; I am there to make sure his fears don’t come true.
He can be Caring; it’s the unharmed piece of him still beating alive.
He is always Love – it’s what breathes Life into both of us.