I don’t love you anymore.
I love hot cups of coffee, and cold cups as well. I love feeling summer grass between my toes. I love long showers. I love curling my hair until it frames my face with red vines of ivy. I love my bed in the morning, before the sun peeks through my curtains. I love petting dogs as I pass them in sidewalks. I love eye contact with pretty strangers in coffeeshops and bookstores. I love the echo of an acoustic guitar in a small room. I love trying new food that my mother didn’t cook when I was a kid. I love the one dress that makes me feel beautiful. I love the voice of the skinny English kid in the concert venue. I love fireflies in the summer. I love fireplaces and afghans and good books. I love red lipstick. I love the dozens of empty notebooks stockpiled in my house. I love maps and I love globes. I love doing kind things for strangers to see them smile. I love comfortable sweaters. I love baking desserts. I love drinking more coffee.
I don’t love you anymore.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
I don’t love you anymore.
I love hot cups of coffee, and cold cups as well. I love feeling summer grass between my toes. I love long showers. I love curling my hair until it frames my face with red vines of ivy. I love my bed in the morning, before the sun peeks through my curtains. I love petting dogs as I pass them in sidewalks. I love eye contact with pretty strangers in coffeeshops and bookstores. I love the echo of an acoustic guitar in a small room. I love trying new food that my mother didn’t cook when I was a kid. I love the one dress that makes me feel beautiful. I love the voice of the skinny English kid in the concert venue. I love fireflies in the summer. I love fireplaces and afghans and good books. I love red lipstick. I love the dozens of empty notebooks stockpiled in my house. I love maps and I love globes. I love doing kind things for strangers to see them smile. I love comfortable sweaters. I love baking desserts. I love drinking more coffee.
I don’t love you anymore.
