Wrapped up in the universe

Bare feet padding across the room, she came to say goodnight. Tall as she was, the blanket, an inaccurate depiction of the sun, still dragged across the carpet while enveloping her. Without invitation and fear of rejection, she tucked herself into his lap, to have his arms automatically hold her. A peck on the cheek, and a kiss in her hair, he gently sent her off to bed.

But before that, he held her, and it satisfied.

overheard from the living room

"I once knew this judge. This girl was so black..."

"....Can she say that?"

&

"Hey! Don't hate on the gay."

"No one can break your heart, so break it yourself"

Andrew Bird's Eyeoneye

"Now and then it's good to pause in our pursuit of happiness and just be happy." Guillaume Apollinaire

Nudging you awake, asking if you needed anything. Taking one last deep breath of slumber, you replied. I gathered up what you wanted and brought it back: The Lorax, Thin Mints, and milk. With sleepy eyes you glanced at me, smiled, and closed them again. Balancing everything, I crawled beneath your furry blanket of the sun and the stars. Listened to the spine crack of the new book, dipped Thin Mints into milk, and waited. You pulled me close and started reading. We took turns, flipping pages, admiring the simplistic art, and making voices.

What a Sunday morning it was.

Don't you climb down, darling

Lately, I've been feeling hopeful. And incredulous.

I mean, shouldn't I be more unhappy? But I'm not, and it's quite pleasant, really. Even if the world is falling down around my ears, I still have some things. Strong coffee, freshly baked cookes, and a lumpy bed to lie on.

Life is getting sloppy and delicious and dangerously fun.

My inability to rationally deal with my feelings leads to them often sweating out of my eyes, and my birthday was a beautiful, humbling surprise with my loved ones, feeling exhausted and looking like I earned those bags under my sleepy eyes. My Friday nap on the rocky shore of the lake, between roaring our cheers for our bears. My Sunday morning (and every morning) companion with me at Disneyland, squeezing me close beneath the kaleidoscopic lights and spray, carelessly laughing and belting out the best. A peek into your life: tip-toeing around creaky wood floors, messy chili burgers at midnight, the view of LA at night, and falling asleep with your hand in mine. A midday race to beat the bus, sprinting and leaping out of cars, screaming and yelling with the girls. Resting in my own bed, but a snuck-in smell of you with me. Movie-hopping terror and belting out Beauty and the Beast on repeat.