Tuesday, March 9, 2010

a dreamer, someone completely out of touch with reality.

oh, how lucky i am to have known somebody so hard to say goodbye to;

i have a dream, that when im twentythree my boyfriend will runaway with me. Paris or the country- i haven't decided. i don't think that it matters.
we'll stay in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere.
i'll wear pretty, flimsy, light dresses and black tights- never with any shoes. and he'll wear simple clothes: band tshirts, grey jumpers, jeans, pale colours.
everything in my head is in pale colours- except our bedroom.
my nails painted red. but no makeup. a little mascara, maybe. he always liked my eyes.
baths instead of showers

he'll play his guitar and drink rum and coke while i clean the kitchen. quietly singing and bouncing along to every word i know. running my hand across his bare back every time i pass him. and watching him smile as I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his neck, only to kiss his cheek and tell him how wonderful he is.
and when i let him go, he'll lose the smile and as I begin to pluck different things out of the fridge, he'll put down the guitar and sing instead. waltzing behind me at first. later with me.. carefully. as if he'd break me if we moved too quickly.
the light fabric of my dress swaying with us. his hand holding the back of my head, and my head trying to tuck into his chest. and failing.
we're safe.

we'll wake up when it's dark and eat breakfast in the tiny living room (that will be more like a day bedroom) with pillows and bottles of wine and vodka on the floor and candles and fairy lights everywhere that can allow. tv won't have any programmes, but we'll be able to watch old movies like Steel Magnolias and Whats Eating Gilbert Grape. we'll have already seen them a thousand times. but it'll be better there. like everything.
eating cupcakes for dinner and drinking anything for supper. we'll laugh to witty comedy, play around.. in love. and we'll dance. we'll dance all the time.

in the early mornings; we'll go to our bedroom. (oh, how i love how that sounds.)
a very small dark marble fireplace, a double bed and a little window with flimsy white lace. and deep red curtains, so heavy you think they'd fall.
our bedroom is like the rest of our cottage - a little messy, but undeniably perfect (a description i hope my boyfriend and will fit into) the very dim lighting is from the candles that i have coated this tiny room with... and warm. the scents from the candles have made our bedroom aroma thick. hypnotic. romantic.
we can lay on the soft cream sheets. and touch very carefully what we think are each others hearts. time after time. it won't get old.

we'd have hardly any money- this seems, for some UNKNOWN and strange reason, incredibly romantic.

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