Today is Mr K.'s birthday.
I can hardly believe that he's turning 23.
When I met him, he was fresh out of high school and I felt so cool for having an older boyfriend.
Back then he had just turned 18 and to me he was the kindest, handsomest, funniest, smartest boy around.
I still feel that way by the way.
Since then we've celebrated our share of birthdays together, but really not much has changed.
(I mean, look at how HOT Mr K. is !)
He is now old enough to drink in any country but really, he's just an overgrown kid.
Over the years, his hair seems to get shorter as his body gets more inked and he gets hotter and hotter.
As his beard gets thicker with each birthday that passes, he gets called Mister more and more.
He's still my babe though.
To me, even when he's 62, he'll always be the handsome boy who came to pick me at the train station in his jeans jacket.
That will never change, no matter how many candles he blows.
One thing does change though : every year, I love him more and more.
Gelukkige verjaardag schatje.
Jij bent mijn wereld en ik hou van u tot de maan en terug.
Can you tell that I love his old bones to death ?