22. a canadian lady, film student and lover of: comedy, coffee, nostalgia, reefer, bill murray, cancelled tv shows, middle aged sketch comedians, felines and a copious amount of other various geeky things.
"I’ve stopped being sorry for all my soft. I won’t apologise because I miss you, or because I said it, or because I text you first, or again. I think everyone spends too much time trying to close themselves off. I don’t want to be cool or indifferent, I want to be honest. If I love you at 5AM, I’d damn well rather that you know I felt it. If I love you two hours later, I’ll tell you then too. Listen, I won’t wait double the time it takes for you to text me back because I don’t want to. I don’t care enough to be patient with you. I’m happy, you made me feel that way, don’t you want to know? So that’s how it’s going to be. I’m going to leave myself as open as a church door. And I’m going to wake you up before the crack of dawn to tell you that I’m fucking joyful, no pretending, not from me, not ever. Would you like some coffee, would you please kiss me? Here, these are my hands, this is my mouth, it is all yours."
"I want a comfortable sort of love. You know, the kind that sits next to each other in silence for an hour or two reading books. We don’t talk much. A shared smile between pages every now and then. His thumb circling mine. I want a love that doesn’t need to be anything other than what it is."