All I want for Christmas…
I want to be in love. Muy importante, it has to be mutual. I’m perfectly capable of managing on my own, but I’m slowly showing signs of the hardcore single. I don’t cook meals, I grab a bite. I don’t really clean, I merely shovel the dust out of sight. I don’t walk. I slouch. In short, the vigor that usually goes with the first period of being single, the vigor to at least appear to have a backbone, is slowly fading.
I’d like to go shopping, joking around, walking hand in hand, browsing window after window, agreeing on the fact that it’s all just useless muck, but enjoying it all the same. Being two can do that.
I’d like to cuddle up in front of the central heating unit. Smelling her hair whilst spooning. Go for walks, in any weather, and enjoying the anthropomorphic dramas nature has to offer.
Humming our theme song while give the terms drinking and snogging a new definition.
God, can the birth of your son this year be slightly different? Let it be a female for one, and let her be born in her mid twenties. I’ll take good care of her. I promise. Please?
Alone again
I wish these dreams weren’t necessary
dreaming the smile of a girl I don’t know,
dreaming of kisses coming from lips
I can only feel in my imagination.
Her perfume, her clothes, the
way she dances to music only she
seems to hear. Maybe she is just
the only one listening.
I should wake up.
Wake up!
Alas, what felt so warm, so real
just minutes ago, has vanished.
Alone again.