(no subject)
I want to meet someone unlike anyone I have met before, and when I do, I want to love and be loved desperately, foolishly, inconveniently, helplessly. I feel old, like thrift store air and stale bread, like dry rubber bands and fading dye. I want to be new, like grass after first rainfall and the smell of chopped cilantro, like unworn leather shoes and blank journals. I want my interest sparked. It is a strange moment when you realize that you are now a person who you never thought you could be, would be. It is a strange moment when you realize that you can't remember what it was like before it all, before these past few years drained you from yourself.