3.17.18

"What would you wish for if you saw a shooting star?"
I imagined a star streaking across the sky, leaving a celestial trail of light.
If wishes had character limits, I would be screwed.
Because I know exactly what I would wish for.
I'd wish for you and me to be equally in love forever, for the rest of our lives.
I'd wish for us to live in the city in a little brownstone with a dog, I'd even let you pick the breed.
I'd wish for us to have our dream jobs and more than enough money to keep us afloat since I never want us to worry.
But money wouldn't matter to me as long as I would have you.
Nothing would, honestly.
I'd wish for mornings spent making coffee and tea, with kisses on the cheek as I breezed out the door to catch the subway headed uptown.
I'd wish to walk into my office every day filled with creative inspiration, ready to read and write and edit and be happy doing all of it.
I'd wish to be living my dreams.
I'd wish to come home at the end of the day, a setting sun in our living room and a vegan dinner on the stove.
After dinner, we'd take in the last few moments of light and throw a frisbee to our dog in Central Park.
I'd wish for us to sleep beneath a starry sky kindling us, reminding us of who we are and how far we've come and how we have so much longer to keep going and going and going.
I'd wish for our love to be our own shooting star.