When asked a simple question, it should be settled with a simple reply. However, questions to the tune of, "What is it that you want?" deserve just a little more. The next time you ask of me, what is it that I want, I shall tell you. I want a friend. A friend who is available all day, without fail. I want to know someone exists who can be there to comfort me without the hassles of being cities away. What I want is come home each day, be greeted affectionately by my dog. I want to not get into the perpetual argument with mother regarding life, career and the insidious tone of my voice. I want to have a life, instead of being told by father that I have none and I should go get one. I want someone reliable who will not cancel on me every other day and is punctual. I want to be able to meet this person every few days and sit with them in a quiet place, knowing that at that particular moment in time, I have their full and complete attention. And that I am loved. I want to have...
If the world had not shifted from beneath us, we would have been together for seven years in a week's time. And in a month, you would have thrown your seventh tantrum about the birthday gift I would have given you. But you'd have loved it, and refused to part with it. I would have had enough of it by now, and probably would have held off on giving you the gift that I'd planned so meticulously till you promised to accept it with grace. It was a one of those leather tech kits and table layouts you liked and Luffy's cosplay, in case you ever read this. The month would have continued. We would have spent our late evenings watching something on the laptop and ordering from outside. I'd continue to hope that one of these days, you'd surprise me by learning to cook my favourite meal. It was a hope that I'm slowly learning to let go off, because I'm not entirely sure you even know my favourite meal any more. And then, our nights would draped in the boisterous h...
Amelie and the plum cake that will solve all heartaches. John Murphy and the soundtracks he creates. Jeux D'Enfants for the beauty of what love is. 500 Days Of Summer for the summers to come. Endless repeats of beloved TV shows. Vivaldi played on a loop till one succumbs to exhaustion. Mr. Wilde for his witticisms and Dorian Gray. Gerald Durrell and his daffodil yellow villa. Letters, of the handwritten kind. All things I shall be grateful for in the coming few months. The smell of wet mud and clay in the evenings. Camera being slung around neck. Stepping out into the gentle sunshine. Vapours wafting through the streets of corner markets. Short hairdo's. Thumbing through books every single day. All things I missed in the last few months. Blanket, whether in winters or summers. Lemon rolls and tarts. Squinty eyed dogs. Well, dogs. Tomatoes with all kinds of dishes. Comfortable tee. The shoes she painted just for me. Those wonderful women. The earrings that go with just ...
They do tend to make you feel like the only person in the world. But that thought's always made me feel better for some reason.
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