We were laughing. That was funny. We were not okay, not fully at least. However, we were laughing.
God, how I love to watch his laugh. Along with every joke about my hair, my breath, my singing, my weight... Those jokes were the most bittersweet thing I had ever tasted. I hated them, he never knew when to stop. I hated when he stopped, I wanted to say anything stupid so that he could carry on and I would know that, for that moment, it was okay.