I'm in love.

I want to cook for him all day. He makes me want to dress up and put on eyeliner and heels, even though I know he prefers me without them. He said my name with his last name in a heavy Italian accent and looked so pleased with how it sounded that my heart melted into a puddle at my feet and I could have sung. He talks about the children we used to talk about having when we were a couple 3 years ago.
He puts no pressure on me to love him, or to not love him, or to change myself, or to change him, or to remain the same. He is currently the only person that is able to completely alleviate me of the stress I've been experiencing lately.
He loves me.
He plays songs for me which he wrote about me when we were together. We are good drinking buddies. He brings out the dirty, crudely hilarious Camille that is so often tamed by those around her. He appreciates the little things I do for him, the exact things I want him to appreciate, and he makes me a more caring and compassionate human being.
He makes me happy.
When we hold hands it is electric.

It is romance.

girl in the maxi dress. eyeliner wrong.

The reason we make such an amazing couple is that we never let the other forget how much we adore them. Our soul sister best friendship reminds me of how to behave in the real world and how to be the best version of myself for others and how relationships CAN function and why we shouldn't settle for less. This weekend we reunited for the first time in nearly a year and it was the same as it has always been, because we are the best most dating-est dream team ever. We ate lustful Greek food twice in two days, and ate mounds of mushroom and pineapple fried rice together, and we made GENEROUS gin and tonics, and we got questioned about our age because we are young and good looking in a way that makes old drunk guys nervous. Fuck that noise though.

Jason Isaacs.

Dream man since 2001