The gesture of love...

I don’t want chivalry. I don’t want him to open and hold the taxi door for me. I like gestures. I like when after getting on the cab he pulls up my side of the window a bit so that I don’t mess up my already messed up hair.
I don’t want him to take the umbrella from my hand and hold it for me while we are walking in the rain; I would rather enjoy the rain a bit more if he holds it with my hands already on it while we try to battle the drops together.
I won’t like it if he pays for my coffee or my food; I would be happier if we decided to go dutch on it or if he would let me get the check sometimes. Or better still if he treats me with a surprise ice-cream sundae afterwards.
Gestures are important for me. Little things that he would notice. He won’t tell me, but it will show in his actions that he observed me. Maybe when he will offer me a handkerchief because he knows that I never ever carry one myself. Or voluntarily buys me that tub of mixed flavours of popcorn before the movie starts because he would know that I enjoy it. Maybe he would hold my hand gently by himself instead of offering it for me to hold it in malls or markets because he knows that I don’t enjoy the crowd so much.
Chivalry feels formal. Doing it only because it should be done. Gestures are much more normal. He does it because he does it. Because he knows that it would make me feel loved.
I know these things can’t be taught or remembered; neither am I expecting him to do these things. I just want to be in love and feel that he’s looking out for me too. These gestures let me know that I am a bit more important for him than the others. That bit will be enough for me. Am I expecting too much? Maybe not... Desires are always a part of a human’s heart and my desire is to reach a little near to his heart every day. After all love is all we desire, don’t we?


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