I want a domestic life. I don’t need fame. I don’t need egregious amounts of cash. I want my bf or husband to come up behind me and wrap his arm around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder while I cook breakfast in our 2 room apartment. I want him crowd the too-small bed, stealing my blankets and pushing my back against the wall, just so I can say “fuck it” and shift so he’s my blanket instead. I want to take his coat when he comes back from work on a rainy day. I want to pick him up and drop him on the couch. I want to make him cocoa and muffins and grab a warm blanket and just snuggle for a while. Listening to the rain. Listening to him. To his breathing and heartbeat slowing and evening out, until they’re replaced with gentle snores. I’d shift to hold him in a comfortable position, and fall asleep looking at how goddamn beautiful he is. I don’t need the world to be happy. All I need is him.