I used to think blue eyes were pretty, his were not. his were not cornflower, sapphire, baby, indigo, azure, or cloudy sky blue. His were midnight where the light pollution from the city blocks the stars. Iceberg, squall, hypothermia, eventual death
I Dont Understand Life I Dont Understand Myself I Don't Understand Anything I Don't Understand Please Help Me Understand How To Survive The Calm After The Storm After So Long Living In The Hurricane
☐ Learn to play an instrument ☑ See the pyramids ☐ See the northern lights ☑ Have my first kiss ☑ Graduate High School ☐ Ride in a hot air balloon ☑ Fall in love ☑ Nap together ☑ Cook dinner together ☑ Try shrooms ☐ Make him breakfast in bed ☑ Build a snowman ☐ Couples dancing lessons ☑ Go camping together ☐ Make love in a blanket fort ☐ Go backpacking together ☑ Celebrate an Anniversary ☐ Kiss in the rain ☑ Watch a meteor shower together ☐ Take a spontaneous road trip together ☒ Make it work ☐ Have a new year’s kiss ☐ Earn his forgiveness ☐ Start a garden ☐ Raise a dog ☐ Raise a cat ☐ Share a house ☐ Make a home ☐ Plant a tree ☐ Get married ☐ Build a bookshelf by hand ☐ Slow dance in the kitchen ☐ Write a book ☐ Be a family ☑ Choose him again ☑ and again ☐ Be chosen back
...love is hunter sick nerves you enter dream love is puncture it is green with life lush and suffering and kitchen frot and menial wreck and the reburn of childhood excite a spell and sale of a mental thing and incompletely rheumy-tunes...