subject line: moments



I have these ideas about what love should be.

Waking up to you playing my favourite songs on the guitar Sunday morning, paired with cinnamon eggo waffles and bitter black coffee in bed.

A tub of Ben & Jerry’s in the middle of Trinity Bellwoods Park when it’s raining. Sharing wet kisses and then running home and sliding into your oversized sweatshirt.

Sitting on your deck with a bottle of wine, and looking up at the stars. Making crazy, stupid love under the Big Dipper.

When these moments happened, I was convinced that each of them meant something because they were so perfect. But I have the habit of falling in love with moments that I read as forevers because they fit my idea of love. I have the affliction of being most in love with the beginnings of things, when the amount of beautiful possibility that exists is just overwhelming.

I’ve been in love with more boys than I can count, but none of our fairytale beginnings led to anything long enough to be considered real.