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My heart is a hopeless romantic - I am a dreamer whose dreams are bigger than her own existence. Somehow, my wistful mind always drifts off to this certain day in the future; a simple day, a happy one. It doesn't have to be perfect, in fact it doesn't have to be extraordinary in any sense. Just another day where he and i are all that occupy this world. Even though I have never liked sunlight, I want the world to be so sunny that day - beams of light streaming through the dirty glass windows and highlighting all the right places. The empty pages begging me to fill them in, the fresh carnations sitting in a vodka bottle filled with water. And him, walking around in jeans hanging from his hips - a walking, breathing piece of art. I am probably going to be so tempted to use his chest to write book quotes but I'll refrain - I know he's going to make the most adorable yet petulant pouts ever when he'll have to wash it off. The thought will make me giggle and I'll wait, wait for him to turn and watch me giggle - a dimple denting my upper left cheek. I hope he recalls me telling him how the dimple only surfaces when I smile very hard, and then realizes that he's the reason behind the broad smile plastered on my face. He'll play that one slow song that makes me do little pirouettes around the apartment in nothing but an oversized shirt, skipping and tripping because I have a feeling I'll forever be clumsy. I hope he picks me up and kisses my head and dances with me. I'll spin out of his reach and back to my bookshelf and start reading the Colleen Hoover book I love so much. Maybe he'll watch me read for a while, maybe he'll notice how my expressions change as I read on or maybe he'll simply drift off to his own bubble of thoughts while I float in mine. So strange how two completely different worlds collide and still live in harmony. I'll creep up on him while he's surfing the most random things on the internet and kiss his bare shoulders - I could kiss every inch of him and still kiss him some more. He'll sit me on his lap and I'll pour out my bruised little heart's secrets into his hands. These hands have held me so steady even through the unsteadiest of times. I hope he stares at me with his eyes wide, his long lashes curling and casting shadows on the angles of his high cheekbones. I hope, oh god, I do hope he will still find me beautiful with my bare face and dark circles, my hair in a messy bun, and my big nose ruining the symmetry of my face. I hope he'll still be able to look at my foolish smiles and kiss me because he'd kiss me at anytime of the day without the slightest bit of hesitation. I dream that day will end with us tangled in sheets, our bare skins burning against each other and there will be nothing but unadulterated love between us. Just our breaths mingling, our hearts in sync. I hate distances and I know I always will. This day is far away, even my hopeless heart knows. This day seems too happy, too simple to exist, right? But this day is somewhere there in the folds of the future; somewhere in the peak of the highest mountain, somewhere in the depths of the deep blue ocean but it does exist, and he and I will have it.
Maybe someday, somewhere.
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