My favorite thing you do is stop me in the middle of whatever I’m doing to tell me you love me.
Every word you’ve ever said, is written somewhere in my mind.
I was hoping we could just listen to Jimmy Eat World and forget we ever grew up.
He said he loved more than any other women he’s ever loved and I had a black eye to prove it.
I’d tell you what happened, but I can’t remember all of it. And I don’t wanna put words in my dreams thoughts.
I had a dream that Mark Wahlberg and his wife were our neighbors and we had dance parties in our living room and drank wine from Solo cups. I remember being confused as to why they lived in a regular neighborhood, or why it didn’t seem to make anyone awkward that I had Marky’s Calvin ads up in the living room.
I had a dream about you. You were a stranger playing a gig in this pub where I was waitressing. I felt like I knew you or needed to, so I asked you to have a few drinks with me. Then my alarm went off. I sat up in bed to see you still sleeping. I’m glad I decided to wear a kilt that summer while I was in school.
I had a dream about you last night. I was writing a ‘Sex for dummies-Christians That Secretly What to be Porn Stars- 1st edition.’ And you helped me with the illustrations.
Making the hard to decision to throw away a once favorite bra is like deleting an ex-friend that repeatedly let you down.