I can\'t borrow him.
But my blu.
To an outsider, we probably appeared more friends than hopeful lovers.
He was perfection for the entire hour and a half train ride while the concrete jungle turned into a rolling green landscape.
To me, he was a cool, calm, confident stranger.
In my defense, I didn\'t know who he was.
The one she probably wore on her first date with him.
He\'s not even her favorite dress-the lucky one she wears on first dates.
He\'s not a sweater or a skirt.
I can\'t borrow him