... I'm not sure that "true love" really exists. But I am sure that when love exists, it is always true. There is no truer thing than love that I have ever believed in."
I'm not beating myself up for remembering anymore. Remembering is blissful. It's easy to remember. It's hard to not hope, but I still know not to wish for things that aren't mine to wish for. But remembering... remembering can be good.
Avocado. Handwriting. Sitting on the stairs talking books. That day at the elementary school.... Playing Portal and wishing for portals. Harry Potter. Curling my hair. Blue, blue, blue, orange. Freezer noises. Notebooks. Cuddling. Staring while he played the piano. Mancala games. Sitting in the grass at the elementary school. Orion. Riding my bike around the block a million times to glance up the street at his house. Supposed to learn piano, but so shy. Walking with me. "Babe" by Styx. Looking at his hands. He hated wearing shorts, but I liked it. "Beautiful." Proud of his music. Music on YouTube. Shoes filled with sand. Sleeping/dreaming. Old books. Typewriter. Airborn. Girls in books. Dogs. Lavender. Despicable Me. "Ziblov." Rating yards. His smile. English. Playing with his hair. Staring at our feet. Traveling the world. Japan. Excitement about music. Godzilla. Dinosaurs. Watching him sleep.Photos for film class.Clouds. Following the rules. Every wish on an eyelash.
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