i want to be somewhere we are happy. where you’ve made me tea without asking, where i am curled up by the fire with a novel i love and a dog at my feet. it doesn’t have to be fancy. our floors can be bare and our kitchen tiny. but i want to be somewhere that i feel free, where every corner is filled with good memories.
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i think about you a lot and i think about you not thinking about me a lot and i think about how i don’t want to think about you but i think about it a lot and i don’t know i think too much i think too much and you exist somewhere that all these thoughts can’t even touch
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there are people i am friends with who are fireworks. they move like thunder, this glorious graceful command of their space. i love them. i love them all so much. but i am a small flame in the middle of a wasteland and i feel myself flicker. i don’t know. against their music, my silence feels awful.
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it won’t be like what you imagined. maybe you get the road trip to the beach with coffee in your hand and the radio playing, maybe you don’t. but happy shows up. it’s in a 2 AM game of jenga with your new college friends. it’s curling up for another marathon of netflix. it’s meeting the person who will be your best man at the wedding. it’s 4:45pm in the library when the girl in the study coral across from you quietly whispers “i’m going to set everything on fire” and then turns to you and asks if you wanna take a break for dinner (say yes, she’s very nice and you both need a moment away from the stress). it’s the mornings they have omelettes and in good books and in a puddle that looks cool. it’s sometimes picturesque, but more often it’s full-belly laughter at stupid things on the floor of your friend’s house while in the background someone is debating the best way to win settlers of catan.
i know it gets dark early now and the tired is setting in and everything sort of feels blank and hazy and you want to spend ages staring at walls thinking of nothing but happiness will find a way in. it will be small moments. look for them.
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I have been reading http://inkskinned.tumblr.com/ for the whole evening and I forgot how poetry can romanticse love and tragedy all at once.
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