14th day. 11th month.

currently listening to: green and gray - nickel creek.
currently thinking of: more coffee.
currently laughing about: the moon being so bright last night that it woke me up and kept me awake till i turned away from my window. after staring at it for a bit.

when i dream of my father, the dreams are always extremely vivid. i remember smells and feels and tastes. normal everyday things, but not something i normally wake up and still feel from a dream.
i have never had a good dream about my dad. not since he passed. its always been these strange dreams where he is just out of reach. or i have this gut feeling that its not actually him. in my dreams he's always two steps ahead and a little to the right, and i feel like i am always trying to catch up.
but last night was different. last night he was hugging me so tight. like he knew he would be gone for a long time and he pulled me close to him so i could smell his old spice mixed with instant coffee scent. and held me. he let me cry and cry and cry. and beg him not to go. all the while patting my back. telling me it was going to be ok.
we were in the house i grew up in. in that house, the front door was right next to my room. when anyone would leave i could hear them. in this dream. after i'd already said my goodbyes to him and gone into my bedroom. i smelled his coffee and heard him shut the door. i rushed outside. and he was walking down the street. i shouted out that i loved him and not to forget me. he looked at me for a long time. reached up his hand, in goodbye and told me "its going to be alright. its time to stop being sad now. and remember i'll always love you"

as for not being sad, i am a long way from that. as for feeling comforted. i finally do. because i can still remember his smell. i can still see his face and i can still feel his arms.

saturday mornings are meant for coffee. re-reading harry potter and listening to les miserables. as loud as possible.

in the sun, sun having fun.

a day at the atlantic.
a basket full of scones and lemon curd.
sunshine and sand.
homemade dinners.
cups of coffee.
biggie snuggles.
platonic soul mates.

these are the some of the ingredients to make up a good day.

boys are cruel but girls are meaner.

i am a dance. trapped in a mason jar.
shake me like a firefly and see me alight.
i am a song. trapped in a bullhorn.
shout into me and hear me cry.
i am a love. trapped in a doll.
pull my string and listen to the screams.

i drank my bottle of sorrow till it became joy.

she rolled over to face him and curled into the nook of his arm.
it was like she was born to be in that place. in his warmth.
he pressed his mouth to the top of her head, drinking in her smell.
she felt safe. she felt right. she smelled like ripe mangos.
he shut his eyes tight. hoping the noise of his heart fluttering would wake her up.
he had never felt a stronger urge to be near someone.
it was more like a craving.