god, i can’t wait to be the kind of friends
who know all of each other’s stories
who’ve seen the sun rise and fall
and don’t fear the end
i can’t wait to figure my shit out
some day, soon
look in the mirror, and feel just a little stronger than i did the day before
i can’t wait to build myself up, slowly
can’t wait to feel like i’m okay
when i wake up in the morning
i can’t wait to count off wrinkles in the mirror
like the rings of a tree
i hope you’re there with me
i hope your laugh sounds like a symphony
i hope our bellies hurt
i hope the light catches your hair
i hope you get what you deserve
i hope your life is fair, and just, and wise
i hope you tell them what you think
bare your teeth, and fight for the things you beleive in
i hope we’re not afraid to live our lives
god, i can’t wait
to know you like the back of my hand
to haul your regrets up the hill next to mine
to stay, and stay, and stay
until we’re nothing but dust
in the hands of time
I’m not sure where this piece came from, exactly–I think it’s mostly fictional? But there are definitely some grains of truth in there was well. I was reading (through some internet rabbit hole) about the different kinds of greek love. Pragma is supposed to be longstanding and practical love, like that between a couple who’s been married for a really long time. I don’t know, this is definitely a case of me romanticizing the future, but it’s nice to think about getting to have that kind of bond (whether romantic or platonic) with someone some day.