Nostalgia and dreams.

One day I hope to have someone to come home to, who would drink coffee they hate just make sure I’m safe before they sleep.

And then not go to work the next day just because. Maybe I’ve persuaded them to stay in bed with me. Maybe I’m sick. Maybe they don’t feel like going, anyway.

It’s nostalgic and romantic and utterly inconceivable, reckless and irresponsible, crazy and weird and everything I could ask for in a love. Now I just need to find that person to make it happen. I couldn’t possibly kiss myself, can I?

As logical and realistic as I want to be, I’m still a dreamer –¬†always have been.

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