Abby, 17, Texas. I believe in glitter, Harry Potter, and savoring the little things in life.
1) I want to rent hotel rooms with you and spend more than half our time being outside.
2) I want to get lost while we’re driving because I can’t read maps and you are too stubborn to ask for directions.
3) I want to eat drive-thru food with you on the floor of our first apartment.
4) I want to get drunk in public and have you take me home while I hit on you.
5) I want to go on long adventures with you.
6) I want to go to the movies and make out with you in the back like a couple of over excited teenagers.
7) I want to lay with you under the stars and talk about the future like I’ve got it all planned.
8) I want to break in your arms once in a while because I don’t have it all planned.
9) I want to bore with you with my favorite shows and movies even though you insist it is okay.
10) I want to play video games with you and sulk when I lose.
11) I want to paint you in my poems.
12) I want to dance with you.
13) I want to spend the rest of my life with you, knowing there’s no place else I’d rather be.
I’ve been waiting so long to find this.
And kid, you’ve got to love yourself. You’ve got wake up at four in the morning, brew black coffee, and stare at the birds drowning in the darkness of the dawn. You’ve got to sit next to the man at the train station who’s reading your favorite book and start a conversation. You’ve got to come home after a bad day and burn your skin from a shower. Then you’ve got to wash all your sheets until they smell of lemon detergent you bought for four dollars at the local grocery store. You’ve got to stop taking everything so goddam personally. You are not the moon kissing the black sky. You’ve got to compliment someones crooked brows at an art fair and tell them that their eyes remind you of green swimming pools in mid July. You’ve got to stop letting yourself get upset about things that won’t matter in two years. Sleep in on Saturday mornings and wake yourself up early on Sunday. You’ve got to stop worrying about what you’re going to tell her when she finds out. You’ve got to stop over thinking why he stopped caring about you over six months ago. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. Fuck it. Love yourself, kiddo. You’ve got to love yourself.