“You want a kiss that makes you feel like you are flying?” I ask, speaking barely above a whisper.
“Uh huh,” she says.
“I always thought that it would be the most romantic feeling to kiss among the clouds. Since I can’t fly, and I will never, and I mean never jump out of a plane, a kiss that felt like I was flying was as close as I was going to get,” she explains.
“How long have you wanted that?” I can’t help but smile. There is something about these innocent confessions that makes me want to be the romantic man that can give her what she wants.
“Since I was a little girl. When I was little, I would lay out in the backyard and look up at the clouds. One day, when I was laying out there, I saw two birds flying together and I thought it would be the most amazing feeling.” Sighing, she snuggles in closer to me.