one day

sleeping in every Sunday, pjs still on long after noon appears on the clock. waking up every morning with the same realization: i-can't-believe-i-get-to-do-life-with-you. pulling the duvet over our heads, like the tents we used to make as children (and sometimes revisiting our childhood by making a blanket fort.) crisp days with hands tucked into pockets and leaves under our feet. building IKEA furniture (and a life together.) bedside tables with mugs of warmth and whatever flowers we picked up that week. sparklers and picnic blankets and laughter on holidays. (bad) dancing with glasses of white in hand. reading while ben howard is playing. sleepy morning grins and the smell of french press coffee and blueberry pancakes. playful flirting & playful fights. always, always making up before we both go to our respected sides of the bed. suitcases packed and car rides to anywhere & everywhere with music playing and hands on thighs. breakfast for dinner, always. knowing that every sunrise and every sunset will always mean that you are by my side.

and everything in three categories: his, hers, & ours. 

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