And we all want everything like other people have. Throw legs on each other while sleeping. See how we are drowning in each other eyes. Hang on him like a monkey, and feel his arms wrap around you like a liana. Stir the sugar in a cup, not just for myself. Know that when you are sick, he or she will bring tangerine and a bunch of sweet kisses. That in the morning both need to run to work. Get loans for appliances. And have a shaggy, friendly dog. Buy a new cabinet with a bunch of shelves. And to divide in it shelves: two to him, the rest to yourself. Learn to tie a tie in three hundred ways. Try not to lose the brand next to him. Even with the temperature, under forty. To stir up his past. Darn quarrels with kisses. Watch TV shows. And loosen our favorite sofa. Plan a vacation for the year. Buy new curtains in the apartment. To make a bed for a couple. Argue who will come home faster from work. Receive SMS that distract from work. Cook dinner and breakfast. To look at the stars. Choose our favorite characters from the movies. And root for one team. Accompany fishing. Cook dinner together and meet guests. I don’t know whether everyone cares about such a life, saying that it destroys couples, but in the novels this life is described as human happiness ...