Wishful Thinking

I want to write about new love. About the butterflies you get when hes about to kiss me. The late night phone chats, the first time he asks me out on a date. The way I make sure my hair is just perfect when hes coming to pick me up. I want to write about something special. Something that makes a difference. Something that will matter in a month or two or ten.

I am tired of writing about heartbreak, hatred and sadness. Its really all that seems to be going on these days. A fling here, a scandalous night there. Its all becoming bland. Flavorless. Perhaps the blood in my veins runs cold, derive of oxygen. Maybe I was meant to live in a big city, have no friends and be alone.

I just dont know anymore.

They say you only need a little faith, a sprinkle of hope. I feel like I’ve used up my reserve.

I want to write about the sun and the flowers. I want to tell you about how my heart skips a beat, about the moment he asks me to be his….


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