Sunday, July 19, 2009

267. Look at the stars, look how they shine for you.

I know you love dropping your pencils into the glass container because you love the way it tinkles when they clash together. You play recorded casettes of the ice breaking on the pond because you love how it shatters so softly. I know how you like eating your peanut butter toasted, because you love the way the surface looks so shiny, and how the peanut butter sticks to your teeth. I know that you squeal when you get excited, and sometimes your eyes squint to slits. I remember that time you looked at your nose and crossed your eyes thinking that I was looking at you. I love the way you shrug everything off nonchalantly, like you don't give a damn about the world. I love your smile, the way you blink everytime you're surprised, the way you seem to be able to get along with anyone in the entire world.


I know you hate it when the juice is empty in the fridge and you have to go out and get some. You hate it when someone other than you finishes your green tea ice cream. But you like it when you can see the sun rise from your window, and the way the warmth splashes over you like waves of happiness, as the shadows of your doubts disappear.

But you dont have to love me.
I don't need you to.
I don't want you to.


Because I know you too much.

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