in my younger days, I’d ask my (love interests) to tell me in their most romantic tones,
what our lives would be like one day.
you know, to make sure we were on the same page.
I’d lay on my pillow and listen to how amazing my life would be one day, from someone on the other end. . . who was helping to write my fairytale.
all the prettiest parts.
I thought on that this morning.
for whatever reason.
how once, an adult asked me, on the way to school. . .
what we could possibly be chatting on the phone about,
from late afternoon. . .
until the wee hours of the morning. . .
we were just dreaming.
being a young girl, thinking about how my life would be. . .
those are the things I wanted to hear. . .
because I needed to know, that they could really exist. . .
then you start growing up.
and life actually starts happening.
all the parts you talked and fantasized about,
along with the ones you didn’t.
and it isn’t as fairytale as you think it will be.
not all the time. . .
I’ve always been a story teller.
(sometimes a “story” listener)
a dream writer. . .
but a dreamer.
none the less.
a have your cake and eat it too.
create the life you wish existed. . .
[kind of person]
watching this family. .
I can’t imagine the dreams that Nicole had.
as a young girl.
So I don’t know, if they looked anything like this. . .
but I’ll be. . .
if this isn’t straight out of the pages of my thirteen year old mindset. . . .
that fairytale that I couldn’t wait to come true. . .
is there anything sweeter> > >
than a bare, sandy butt.
peeking out from the bottom of a tiny fishing shirt.
that matches her dads. . . ?
with those bouncing blonde curls,
just strutting down the beach at sunset. . .
alongside your husband??
dear middle school girls,
it isn’t a fairytale.
life, that is.
at least, not all the time.
but if you marry the right guy,
you’ll have stories to look back on, that you can’t even fathom.
ones that your raging hormones can’t even dream up. . .
a love that you couldn’t even speak of,
not until you’ve met it for the first time. . .
and then rocked it in your arms. . .
then one afternoon,
watched it walk along the water at sunset. . . . next to your husband. . .
here’s to dreams.
and sharing them.
and to these three,
gah, y’all so cute.
it literally hurts.