The three hundred and twentieth thing I love about us is imagining the sand beneath our feet in a moonlit desert and knowing how lush and full of life the two of us together would make that beautiful desolation feel.
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The two hundred and eighty-seventh thing I love about us is, when I'm around you, I only want to curse if things are curse-ably good, or...
I would hold your hand and look at the moon and wiggle my toes in that sand for hours.
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