Disclaimer: This is so sappy it belongs on Tumblr.
Honestly, all I want is to grab a beercan and a slice of a pizza (Hawaiian doesn’t count,though) and watch Superman kick Doomsday’s ass with you (not sure if this counts as a spoiler,my bad). And when I’m not feeling nerdy,I want to lay back and binge watch Undateables or Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Or rewatch old movies I can never get enough of like Dead Poets Society or The Breakfast Club(in which I can’t help myself from throwing my fist in the air like Bender at the end). And the next day, I might ask you to read my favourite book with me or my favourite poetry. I wonder if you would like my favourite character. I’ll probably shamefully mouth the words that bring the bombs that kill him in the last chapter. And on slow afternoons, we could try beat looming deadlines together although I’m pretty sure we’ll just end up listening to Stromae on the pretext that it’s technically the same thing as writing an essay in French about environmental degradation.
I want to know if you’re down to karaoke with me to an Oh Wonder or an Of Monsters and Men album because Wolves without Teeth and Drive never get old for me. I kinda want to make salads with you too. Because,well,just so that I can get an excuse to use ranch dressing. And then give in halfway and get burgers, only because you like burgers. And I probably want to bake cake with you and eat it with hot coffee;in fuzzy socks and no shirt on. And before that I need you to geek out with me and we can talk about Schröndinger’s cat and its ‘double standards’. (On the contrary,I hope you’re not bothered by silence. Please don’t try fill in every single gap I leave.)
Please don’t run away on days I make you try rap Gambino’s amaaazing wordplay. Or when I drag you to a play in a language we don’t understand and try fill in with our own dialogue. Or to art and photography exhibitions next to dreadheads in rastacaps and afrohemians in turbans. Just to be clear, I don’t expect us to run around the Louvre(yet) or take trips to Kauai. We don’t need to rob banks to say yes to adventures. I just want to hear the both of us singing acoustic versions of our favourite songs even though my guitar chords sound like a trapped Chewbacca.
And maybe I’m scared because I wonder if you’ll be able to handle the days when I’m almost dizzy with positive vibration and still stick around when I run on low energy? And will I stop finding calls and labels weird or handle us lashing at each other at 5 am. And maybe the thought of knowing so many dimensions of you this early scares me. Like when you used to feel like a mini Diplo on the old Nokia Composer app or how you hated your name because you couldn’t shorten it. I’m scared of the thought of you realizing you’re with an adult that plays Wordsearch and sings Christmas hymns in the middle of March. I’m scared of a lot of things so I hope you’re okay with texting a delusional me at 2 am. (We already have the ugliest eyebags I know of.)
Make me laugh,I dig that, which is pretty easy because I get amused by a lot of things. Can we make beautiful things and show nobody else ; like maybe a Darth Vader mask mosaic or if we’re not being too dreamy, a tree? Let’s go hiking. Or camping. Or solve our first Rubik’s cube together. Let’s talk about religion and feminism,because with you I’m not afraid of being transparent. And I love that.
But anyway, I might want all these but in the end I’ve read more fairytales than I care to remember so just give me you,as raw as you are,with all your horror stories and the rest of your baggage. Because we’re all just hypnotized by trainwreck-ness.
Oh,and for fuck’s sake,kiss the life out of me.