My dear Beard,
I met him in Saigon, a cute French guy. He’s the first man who ever told my eyes are beautiful. “Really? Really?” – I kept asking him that night since in Vietnam my eyes are considered ugly.
– “You are beautiful. Yes, you! Your eyes, your smile, your hands. They are beautiful!”
And I fall for him, fall for his sweet words. Then we hold each other hands and walked the city night. I told him holding hands sometimes makes me turn on more than real sex. Sometimes, it’s the search for something more than sex.