we’re sat on that little ledge we both know so well looking over the lake, fingers intertwined as the sun goes down. Neither of us feel the need to fill the silence because everything in that moment is easy, not perfect, but for that moment in time nobody has to try, or worry, or cry.
This is my hope; my quiet, hopeful little dream. And as each day passes, my hope for this grows stronger but the possibility of realizing it become smaller and smaller. And I want that to change.
I want to see you, be near you and see if I’m even waiting for anything worth it other than sex. I want to be able to run up to you as you catch me in your arms because we couldn’t stand to be apart for one more second. But we’re both hopelessly awkward and I’m stubborn and you’re scared. And you’re hopelessly out of my league and I’m still the incredibly awkward girl on the inside. But something deep inside is giving me something to hope for, and I hope it is for you too.