Our love is indeed like a rosary because it is full of mystery.

How can you love me when I am full of faults? How can you tell me I’m hot when I am sweaty and dirty at times? How can you stay beside me when I am intolerable and annoying at times? I guess that’s the mystery of love, and I don’t care if I am never to find it out as long as I have you.

What a feeling, this heat burning against the beating of my heart. What a mystery, whenever you come and visit my dreams every night I go to sleep. What a thrill, knowing that we are living under the same skies, our hands will finally touch and never letting go.

You are my counterfeit mystery. My artificial company. My forged reality. My imaginary friend I can’t eradicate.

Love is the mystery of water and a star.

Every woman is a mystery to be solved.