genevieve (sugarlimbs) wrote in raspberryhearts,

on one side of the bench, we sat.

i have not felt as alive as i did opposite you today in the park for a long time, ice cream in our hands and conversation leaping from mouth to ear. if this buzz, this dizzyness, this fire under my skin and sparks from a girl is what being alive, breathinglovinglaughinglife, is then how dare i have ever felt like not wanting another day on this earth before? the grass could crawl up my legs and ladybirds perch on my toes, the sun could turn me pink and sweat collect in a pool on my back but i wouldn't leave. the time would always run too fast. every cell every heartbeat every thought that i produce is what i have become over the years and i bloom, i cry, i move on, i hold hands and plan the future. things are okay. i have struggled with an eating disorder, my love committed suicide on me, my mother was paralysed from a stroke. these amongst other things have been ruining me slowly and enticing me to sleep at night. who would think i could feel this ripe and flowery from a summer smiling outpour of thoughts on both our parts.

i told you of my wish to love everyone the way i love you (in that hand holding same wavelength youmakemewanttolive way that we have) and you called me a hippy. how i want to leave everything behind and travel from place to place with no money or companions except the amazing strangers i meet along the way, how i feel unlike all the people in my life, bar a few, because i expect too much and that i want a disgustingly obnoxious man who is unexpected, my soulmate and in love with me to enter my life. i need variety here, routines suck the passion out of me and i resist settling in. i told you i no longer believed in the god that so much of the world imagines, but a god of no form but smokey incense, of tears, rockets and the touch of a finger, of anything.

we spoke of secret weddings and i want it to happen for you extremely so because it is what i want and am yet to reach with a boy. a little chapel in the countryside with flowers and jeans, no vows, just love spewing from our eyes and ears and mouth and hands held we'd be wed, him and i.

we will be handwriting a book together, posting it back and forth to document our days and nights, our smiles and tears, our hopes and inspirations. i expect it to be colourful pulsating and like us and i just want to thank you for resuscitating me again.

what makes you feel alive?
what dreams do you have for your future?
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