Only the Lies

Him: Six foot, four inches. Thor look-alike. Kickass black belt ninja man, and gym owner.

Me: Barely five foot. Resembles an overstuffed dumpling. Semi-decent receptionist of the office across the road.

Match made in heaven? I think so. Which is why I get to work early each morning, and stare longingly out the window, desperate for my daily glimpse of him.

The man doesn't know I'm alive, and I don't have the lady balls to do anything about it. Until the postman delivers the gym's mail to m...