Rewriting the script...

Last night, I had a dream about tomorrow.
Yes, you were in it. Something was strange
though... Moments were motionless, actions
were less divine and I was short of words. Or
maybe the numerous sighs took away my
words, I don't know.

Most of the time, dad chooses to work
overnight. He stopped taking mum out and she
stopped asking to spend more time with him. I
don't know what it is, I know they love each
other. I guess that's what happens to people
after being together for more than twenty
years.

Well, I want it twisted, I want it different. I
don't want your lips to touch the beer bottle
more than my skin. I don't want you to spend
more time staring at the television than you do
looking at me. I don't want small talk in the
evening after work, or red roses only once a
year...
I want more. I want a home in the comfort of
your words.
I lost pieces of myself in the lines of books and
in between the action of friction while writing
my sorrows away. But then, you came by.
You stitched my seams together so only your
hands have the power to tear them apart. I
don't know what it is about you that closes and
opens, only something in me understands. I
would die a million deaths to defend your
happiness. I have seen you at your best and at
your worst and I cannot decide which one I
love more.
I love the sky above your head, the floor you
walk on. I love the words you spill over
morning coffee, the whispers you mumble in
sleep. And there's no part of you I wouldn't
embrace.
I wonder what it's like to wish on shooting
stars, I find myself picturing the friday night
pizzas, the long walks by the beach on
saturdays and the sunday morning pancakes.
And please dont be mad when I overdo the
chilli in our hot sauce.

But then, I can't help imagining a future with
you.