She is the woman of my dreams, sometimes she haunts, sometimes she plays. I have married the woman I love, love to death sometimes, die to love sometimes. We have been married for long time, so long, that the memory fades. I forget how she looked in the red joda, She forgets the how I had asked her to wear the joda. Now we bicker, she nags, I ignore. Was it always this way, I wonder. Had we been drunk that night, i ponder? In between all the wondering, she nags, I ignore. The date nights have withered to delivery pizza, 'The Notebook' has been replaced by 'We the People'. During dinner we sit together and smile, Talk about the day, and also the date which was due for a while. Our fights are more intense now, Making up for things is not easy anymore, yet after the egos melt away, we talk, because we are together on this married path. Even after years of chaos and drama, I love her smile, she loves my jaw line. Every morning she looks like an angle, and calls an ogre like me a hunk. We are the lock and key in the world of safes, without each other we will melt away. In spite of the anger and irk, Everyday is an adventure, and she makes sure it is never bland.
I have been around so many couples who have been married for so long, they fight like they would kill each other but they know that they are best for each other. And no matter what, they would never leave each other's side.