It was officially 12am and I hear a knock at my door. I’m as comfy as can be, pajamas on, no makeup, looking a straight up mess.
Apparently my lover boy Q decided to be a sweetheart and surprise me with home baked cookies and a love letter.
And my home baked, I mean baked in his house, by him.
He tells me happy birthday and I read my letter… I’ll keep that one to myself thank you very much. But the gist of it was simple enough, he loves me.
He goes on to tell me the process of his craziness. Not only was he in a rush with time, but the first batch which was meant to be a cake, was a failure. He sniffs around, when the cake is almost done and notices that the smell is peanut butter.
I HATE PEANUT BUTTER
So he ends up throwing that out and starting all over all while being rushed so he can take a two hour train ride to me and get here by12.
Now that’s an awwwwww moment.
I’m so lucky.