God first appeared on the scene of human history in the role of a matchmaker. What a profound and exciting revelation!Is it too much to suggest that Eve came to Adam on the arm of the Lord Himself in the same way that a bride today walks down the aisle of the church on her father’s arm? What human mind can fathom the depth of love and joy that filled the heart of the great Creator as He united the man and woman in this first marriage ceremony?Surely this account is one among countless indications that the Bible is not a work of merely human authorship. Moses is generally accepted as the author of the creation record. But apart from supernatural inspiration, he would never have dared to open human history with a scene of such amazing intimacy—first between God and man, and then between man and woman.

Loving you is no more a beautiful memory, but now just a pain,I cry and weep every time I walk down the memory lane,Your love always completed me in every sense as a whole,But now it’s just emptiness and sorrow in my heart that drains,Of all the people in the world, you choose me to be hurt,Of all the hearts in the world, you choose mine to break…Why did you leave me I ask myself every morning and dawn?Why my love was incomplete tell me why you were gone?A silence surrounds my heart and fills it again with despair,Oh this pain is just too much, and the damage beyond repair,Please come back baby, just come back and bring that old smile,Or just come to see me every once in a while,So my heart no more bleeds, and no more my soul aches,So I can be peaceful after my death, in my ashes and burnt flakes…

An angel for some,a demon for some,for me, it's heart of the one.Never want to hurt,keep many secrets beneath the blood.sob in the dark,but, people thinks, it's beat of the heart.No one thought, no one observe,but, it supplies tears as blood.One day someone came,took it out from dark,she kissed it,loved it,played with it,put it with her heart,and makes it her life part.Daily she played,daily she fought,But, never she threw it out.one day, an unknown came,who kissed her,loved her,and used to play with her.He took my out my heart from her,and threw it on the street,then there is nothing more than weep.An angel for some,a demon for some,for me, it's heart of the one.Never want to hurt,keep many secrets beneath the blood.Sob in the dark,but, people thinks, it's beat of the heart.No one thought, no one observe,but, it supplies tears as blood.

I thought my responsibility is over. I am free .naah- I am not.when I feel something is wrong-I am after it.to correct .to stop that something should not destroy him. I do not care my thing. but my love can not be so selfish -that I will watch to take him all those way -which can make him lost.i can't do that.it is my responsibility .I loved him.i do not know about him.i have many unanswered questions.but I am here to love him not to destroy.. I must assure my love is progressive- ,encouraging for his growth and mine too .I love him by my each breath.may be he does not bother- but it is my love,my life.if he is thee,he is smiling,he is happy --I am too.he is innocently do many things- I like those-- while get scared if he do some extreme .I have know him many many years-- I can't leave him alone for even once.i am with him-no matter what's come in way

Así es. Entonces de todos modos, tu y tu hermano vinieron a la fiesta y tan pronto entraste por la puerta, Liam se quedo mirándote. Él literalmente no podía apartar sus ojos de ti. Tu sonreíste y le dijiste feliz cumpleaños, pero ni siquiera podía hablar contigo, así que te alejaste para ir a bailar. Se volvió hacia mi y ¿Sabes que me dijo? —pregunto, con los ojos lagrimeando. Negué con la cabeza. ¿Que diablos va decir ella? ¡Esto me esta volviendo loca! — Él dijo en un tono muy serio "Mamá ¿estoy muerto?" Y yo dije "No cariño, no estas muerto" Y el sacudió la cabeza, mirando a todos lados confundido por algo. Luego señalo hacia ti bailando y dijo: "Si no estoy muerto, ¿Porque hay un ángel en nuestra casa?" . .

I want to introduce the world to my princess.’ In a state of disbelief, Izzy took his hand and they walked back towards the stage. Happiness bubbled up inside her as it slowly dawned on her that this was real. She lifted her face to look at him. ‘I think I’m going to look cute in a tiara. I’ve never worn anything sparkly on my head before.’ He laughed and tightened his grip on her hand. ‘First thing tomorrow I’m going to buy you one.’ ‘Slow down.’ She winced and stooped to fiddle with her feet. ‘My shoes are hurting.’ ‘This is not news. Your shoes are always hurting, tesoro.’ ‘Do princesses absolutely have to wear shoes at all times?’ A slow smile spread across his face and he scooped her into his arms and carried her the last few steps onto the stage. ‘Of course not. Didn’t you read Cinderella?

وجودك في حياتي يمثل لي كل أمل وحلم تمنيت تحقيقه ، ومهما يحدث لنا في المستقبل ، فسيكون كل يوم يمر علينا معًا هو أعظم يوم في حياتنا ، وسيكون قلبي دائمًا ملكًا لك

Gil sat baking in the sun for at least 45 minutes before one of the tour guides noticed him looking listless and leaning to his left side. As she approached him, she noticed that he had a stupid grin on his face.“Are you all right, Mr. Cohen?” she asked as she tried to slowly help him to his feet.His shirt was drenched with sweat and his skin was mostly clammy, signally that he was suffering from the middle stages of heat stroke.“It’s not so bad?” he muttered as he struggled to stand straight up. “What not so bad, Mr. Cohen?” one of the tour guides asked.“Death,” Gil stated in a glazed response.The guide looked at the heat-stricken man who appeared to have amoment of clarity amidst all of the sweat and dehydration. “Why is death not so bad?” she pressed on. Gil took a big swig of Gatorade and replied, “Because life wasn’t so great.

you are waiting.waiting for her.her time,love,care,smile.everything for her.you are hidingmany ways that she should not know.she may be knows you.you wait for her voice,her chat with you,you get irritate sometimes her anger or too much talk - still you wait for her.you know she always sleep her phone on where your pic she has,you know she sleep almost on her phone. you wait for her breath. you perhaps wait for the sound of her neck chain with lockets .you wait for the rhythm of her walk- all are part of you .somewhere she is waiting too just listen your voice-.does not matter whatever the words .she is waiting for all those you are dreaming. she may be clueless how to say man-please ,let me be with you.i want to live with you.she perhaps unknown how to run to you and hide in you.your waiting needs to reach to her.life is short.life to have to get.she is losing in deep dark of time.you both end this waiting.

I held Angie Luna in that room for hours, and I remember the different times we made love like epochs in a civilization, each movement and every touch, apex upon abyss. In the luxury of our bed, we tried every position and every angle. I explored the curves on her body and delighted in seeing the freedom of her ecstasy. Her desperate whispers and pleas. I told her I loved her, and she said she loved me too. We lay in bed with our limbs entangled, in a pacific silence that reminded me of existing on a beach just for the sake of such an existence. I couldn't imagine the world ever becoming better, and for some strange reason the thought slipped into my head that I had suddenly grown to be an old man because I could only hope to repeat, but never improve on, a night like this. I finally took her home sometime when the interstate was empty, and the bridges seemed to lead to nowhere, for they were desolate too.

My smell stays with you? I ruined you…for what?”“Your smell keeps me going all the time. I’m in a clutch game or at practice and it’s full count? Your cloves and vanilla scent calms me down. I spray it on the front of my uniform and rub my right hand across like this.” I demonstrate by rubbing my chest and she watches me in fascination like a starstruck teenager watches a rockstar play his bass. “I went to three different stores before I found the exact scent. Expensive. French perfume. Chamade by Guerlain.”She nods looking fascinated or charmed by me at least for a few seconds. “I got it in Paris when I was there a few years ago. I love it.”“I do too. So yes, you ruined me. For anyone else.” She’s smiling but then it slowly disappears like a countdown does as it goes from ten to zero. “What are you doing to me, Elvis?” she asks, looking troubled.

حدوته عن جعران و عن خنفســــــــــهاتقابلوا حوا بعض ساعة مســـــــــــــــاو لا قال لهم حد اختشوا عيب حـــــرامو لا حد قال دي علاقة متدنســــــــــــــةعجبي !!!!

But I was youngand didn’t know betterand someone should have told me to capture every secondevery kiss & every nightBecause now I’m sitting here alone and it’s getting really hard to breath because tears are growing in my throat and they want to break out, but there are peoplewatchingand I just want to be somewhere silentsomewhere stillBut still I don’t want to be alone because I’m scared and lonelyand I don’t understandBecause I was alone my whole lifeMy whole lifeI was so damn lonely and I was content with thatbecause I liked myself and my own company and I didn’t need anyoneI thoughtBut then there was you .. ...So, someone should have told me that love is for those few brave who can handle the unbearable emptiness,the unbearable guilt and lack of oneself,Because I lost myself to someone I loveand I might get myself back one daybut it will take time, it will take time.This is gonna take some time.I wish someone would have told me this.Someone should have told me this.

You won't always spoil her .or treat her like a princess.You won't tell her she's beautiful everyday.You won't make her smile every night and you won't always want her the way you do now.That fades.Those giddy little stomach flutters fade and you're then left with reality.There will be day's you will forget to tell her she's beautiful,even though she needs to hear it.There will be days you'll to say i love you.There will be days you'll forget a birthday or an anniversary.There will be a time when she will walk past you and you won;t want to ravish her, the way you do now.Those things fade, and when they do, what's left is what's truly worth fighting for Love isn't always beautiful, heck,it's not even close to being perfect half the time,feelings change, the spark dies down and what you're left with is something you either chose to fight for you don't When you know that even through those things are gone,you're still willing to fight for every breath ,then you know the love is real.

You know what I love? The spaces between I love you. The tap of your fork against the plate and how my cup of wine clicks against our table. The scratchy voice coming from the radio in the other room. The quiet sound of your hand reaching across the table and whispering over mine. How your voice sounds like your mouth on the back of my neck. The soft murmur of our easy conversation.Between these quiet Tuesday night routines, following every comma and right after every pause for breath, is I, love, and you. In the middle of every I love you is a sink full of dishes, whisper of socked feet tangled in white sheets, and gentle kisses against curved cheeks. We lyric ourselves into the laundry that needs to be finished, into the ends of every smile that follows me repeating your name. We write ourselves into the grocery bags we need to carry, the cracks running up our rented walls, the sides of the bed we choose to drag up the sails of heavy eyed dreams.Like the spaces between our fingers, in the spaces between I, love, and you, we wait.The in-betweens have always been my favorite.