- i still cannot believe that you are mine. sometimes when i call you, while the phone is ringing, i think you might be a complete stranger. it makes me uneasy. you are so far from me.
- if this were true, you'd be the best fucking stranger on the earth.
- also sometimes when i look at your photographs, i cannot comprehend your image; i have studied them too often and cannot see you as a whole anymore.
- i pass chandeliers and track lights in dinnerware'd, modern art'd loft apartments every night. i love peering into peoples' homes, thinking "that could be our track lighting" and "what if that was our dinnerware and modern art?".
- i cannot fathom the joy of sharing everything with you, including sofas and coffeetables and a microwave. i want to wear your shirts and my slippers, sipping tea with you on a loveseat, watching the city sway and listening to our windows' silence.
- i want to marry you. i feel like we already are. we are young and i would give my everything-i-have-left to you in a matter of seconds.
- i am okay with never dancing with anyone else.
- i am okay with always kissing you; tiny kisses, sloppy kisses, eyelid kisses, side-mouth kisses, ice cream kisses, chapstick kisses, everything kisses.
may 7 2009 ∞
may 14 2009 +