catastrophic

and your knees hurt when you sit against the bar.

someone hasn’t removed their score from their dart game last night.

I’m in this stupid barstool again wondering if it will always be like this.

the ceiling is twinkling with christmas lights, a few of them burnt out.

a stained glass lamp shade is the only thing illuminating the bar.

will it always be like this? it can’t be.

it’s hard to tell but I know the person out there for me will be affectionate. he’ll be close to me all the time.

i hope he’s tall. I hope y he grew up skiing, but loves the ocean.

he’ll be from the east coast and his mom planted hydrangeas outside growing up. he’ll have the color eyes that matches those flowers. those blue, almost periwinkle in the saltwater reflection.

he’ll love my pale skin and the art on my walls.

I’ll like that he’s in finance and wants to golf with me and get a golden retriever.

and we can argue about sports.

and music.

I know that he’ll sing in the car with me. he’d make me laugh.

he’d stick up for me at the bar. he’d pray with me.

he’d have these dimples because he smiles too much.

he’ll be gentle with me.

he’ll know what to say all the time when I get upset.

most of all, he will love being mine. and I will love being his.

if I have to wait longer for that. i’ll understand.