Nkiruede

Slow Sunday mornings with my eyes fixated on Macron

Love is not love if it’s one-sided, right?

Well, he hasn’t seen me yet. He would definitely love me back. I mean who wouldn’t?

Silly conversations I have with myself on a Sunday morning. I put on the TV, and there is Emmanuel Macron’s ever calming face.

I am not a lonely woman, No, No.

Saying the above, especially while accompanied by the two ‘No’s, helps my ego a great deal.

How could I be lonely when I have such very dark hair and a set of white teeth, and not to mention the great collection of books that I have.

So on Sunday mornings like this, while my crush on Macron deepens, I call these mornings ‘slow’ not ‘lonely’.

There is just something heavenly I feel when I switch from listening to someone with a cracked voice shouting ‘America First!’ to that beautiful French accent.

It is almost juicy. It is calming. Feels like nothing can go wrong. Feels like he loves me too.

I do not crush on Macron all the time, sometimes I even forget I ever did, his face gets mixed up in the ‘crowd’.

When I am in love, I take in details of the face with my eyes. I spend hours looking at the face, taking it all in, bit by bit.

I did that to Macron’s face this morning.

It is still a slow Sunday morning.

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