It’s OK with the concall marathons,
Night after night,
Days that turned into weeks that turned into months.
.
It’s OK with the running around,
Never stopping to catch a breath,
Always fighting to get a Life.
.
It’s OK with the erratic meal patterns,
Hunger pangs that breeds belligerence,
Only to be comforted by you.
.
Yes. You.
Just a simple smile from you.
With a gentle squeeze on my arm.
And a cheeky canoodling moment - stolen and lost in Time.
.
And this promise :
“We stock up on cuddlez … on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, k?”
.
Okayz 
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