I can't wait to be disappointed by you.
That's the chorus of a song that a girl wrote not long before I quietly watched her eat a disgusting sandwich and she told me we should just be friends. It's a good song. I haven't listened to it in a while, but I imagine it's going to stick with me until I find someone who fails to disappoint.
I was sleeping while the tsunami hit Japan, and I was dreaming that Laura and I were braving an onslaught of tidal waves at a beach house somewhere. Fire Island maybe. We were outside on the third floor, a small balcony surrounding a widow's walk on this weathered white house. We were sitting upright between the railing and a large window, and the waves were crashing against us. I was fighting to keep my head above the water, but Laura would give in, let herself get washed under, then resurface. I thought perhaps her way was better, but I was scared for her at the same time. I don't know if we made it. I woke up.
Hope you're besting the waves, sweet Laura.
I was sleeping while the tsunami hit Japan, and I was dreaming that Laura and I were braving an onslaught of tidal waves at a beach house somewhere. Fire Island maybe. We were outside on the third floor, a small balcony surrounding a widow's walk on this weathered white house. We were sitting upright between the railing and a large window, and the waves were crashing against us. I was fighting to keep my head above the water, but Laura would give in, let herself get washed under, then resurface. I thought perhaps her way was better, but I was scared for her at the same time. I don't know if we made it. I woke up.
Hope you're besting the waves, sweet Laura.