| |
|
The times I remember most that have to do with love invariably don't have to do with an activity at all.
There was the one day during my last week of college where the person I loved and I just say on the edge of the pond outside my dorm and studied, leaning on each other and making sure we were both getting ready for the tests later that day. I brought out breakfast from the cafeteria and we were just looking through notes and being with each other.
Then the time when I was taking a girl I cared for very deeply to her brand new apartment, but before we could leave, she sat on my lap and laid her head on my shoulder, unable to say that she wanted to stay another night, but also unable to leave, and we just sat there waiting for the other person to say that we didn't have to go...and instead we ordered a pizza, watched the X-Files and didn't let go of each other's hands all night, thinking that if we let go, the other person would go away.
Or the time I was in California, looking through antique stores (which I hate doing with a passion) and found a quiet little coffee shop, and we borrowed their crayons and drew pictures on the tablecloths all afternoon.
That's the sort of lazy, languid feeling we should have here.
Unless one of you wants to peel me a grape. |
|
|
