as a little girl, i'd run my fingers across covers of wedding magazines in the grocery line

pressing my nose against the windows of bridal boutiques,

reluctant parents dragging me past.

puzzled by the rash romantic relationships i witnessed early in life,

pristine newlywed love provided a hopeful focus for this young heart.

grown now, 

i've learnt what i wish to pursue in life is rarely printed on glossy pages,

no longer aching to plan a perfect wedding or spend months in pursuit of a white dress i'll spend a single day wearing.

instead i'd like a home filled with books, and someone i love to read them with.

a front porch swing, where tea in hand i'll listen to the thunderstorms

sweet animals with which to share early mornings and late nights,

room to paint, cook, sing and laugh at all of the mistakes that will inevitably be made in this ideal future.

often it seems,

the things we think we want are determined by life as it has happened to us 

yet that which we truly need is left for us to define.

when its all been boxed or bagged

and blank walls feel like blank slates

i haul my suitcases out the front door

and pause to take a mental photo

of wherever

i’ve called home

the past few times I’ve been asked.

should i be allowed to indulge in nostalgia

when i make no efforts to avoid it?

surely i understand the need for closeness

(i'm no monster, after all)

but seeing anything from further away is clarity

(don't worry i'm no stalker either)

 i just like that perspective, 

there's room to think.

cars are harmless ants

(they do look as if they're following one another, wouldn't you say?)

the moon, a sticker decorating the sky

and then there's you

you wouldn't think distance is something you need from the people you truly love

(and perhaps some people do not)

but how else would i remember how to miss you?

i like to use commas

and separate different types of food on my plate,

favour dining-ware with predetermined sectors to separate, segregate, and section off

my meals

i like to use commas

because when you read this, I want it to be my voice in your head

making gentle pauses,

with just a hint

of self-mockery

i like to use commas

because

I love you.

And I love, you.

Are two very different concepts (in my mind)

i love many things

which I will never let you sidle up beside and dull as a result of your own luster.

segmented dining-ware,

commas,

and probably me.