Kulti

“My schnecke. My little snail, do you know that’s what it means? It’s a term of affection in my country. My love. My snail. I don’t want to waste more time. I have nothing to hide and neither do you.”

My stupid, stupid, stupid traitorous heart remembered what it was like to be thirteen.

“I love you, Reindeer.”

“I would do anything for you.”

He was my egotistical, arrogant, stubborn pain in the ass.

“You were brought to this planet to give me an ulcer, weren’t you?

I was still in love with this man.

What I didn’t say was that Kulti had the best one.

“Did you blow that game against Portugal before you retired or were you really sick?”

His response was exactly what I expected: he threw a pillow at my face.

“And one of you I would love to shake on a regular basis.”