Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Bailamos. . .Let's Dance

I have to get it out there. I have a fascination.


And this fascination is border-line obsession.


The smooth voice and the beautiful lyrics are all a girl ever needs.


Enrique. 



Those three syllables instantly stop my heart.

Don't make fun. I know you are jealous. I know you have a love crush on him too.
Who doesn't?


I've normally don't like men with Spanish accents--but for Enrique I make an exception. He always reminds me of good times in the DR. Ones that I will never forget. He reminds me of how romantic Spanish can be.


Carlos and I joke about how he is my Enrique and I am his Penelope Cruz. If I only looked like that. . .

My daily ritual consists of going to work at 7 am--which--contrary to popular belief, I love going to work so early. I love being the first one there. I can blast my Enrique without any worry or care. He is just the perfect beginning to any day. And all of his songs---if any boy sang that to me--I would be his.

Oh Enrique. You make my heart flutter. And I'm not being unfaithful to Carlos. Don't you worry. I just love Enrique too.
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