I’ll make you breakfast before you get up in the morning. I’ll be sure to have a side of blueberry milk with your favorite pancake recipe.
And Cracker Jack can be a part of our weekly diet, if you want.
We’d never have time for friends because they’ll never be able to keep up with us and where we are on any given week–you’ll get so annoyed with me every time I stop you because my artsy eye catches a unique photo opportunity. But later you’ll thank me, I tell you.
I’ll beat you in a race across the lake in Merriam.
And on the weekends, we’ll dress like it’s Edward Morrow times and swing down 18th and Vine.
Meeting you for the first time again before all this–that will be the day.
I won’t have to write on my wrist any longer, save places on my phone anymore. I won’t have to wonder. I won’t have to wish or dream because I’ll have you to answer my calls when I’m stressed out, stuck in flood traffic while you shovel snow off your car, when I’m lonely.
One day I’ll fall for you harder than I’ve ever fallen for anyone before. I’ve proven to myself that I will, at the breath of a small miscommunication, at the simple thought that I had you in my grasp once again. I cried.
Yes. I actually cried. And it felt hysterically wonderful.