Someday

Someday, I'm going to have a house. Charming with little rooms, and romantic corners. I'll wake up in it and make myself coffee, or maybe the man I've chosen to love forever will wake up and make me coffee, because it's that sort of morning, and he will certainly be that kind of man. I'll spin up some breakfast and he'll playfully poke at my sides before kissing my neck softly.

We can spend summers picking tomatoes and peppers from our garden to make homemade salsa together. Maybe it will be a little bit too runny, but we'll eat it up anyway. He'll love me to pieces, even when I'm impossible. The trivial things won't mean a thing. Not in this house! There will always be freshly picked flowers on the tables, and we won't bother making the beds.

When it's cold out I'll curl up by the fireplace with the cats and my favorite books, and listen to the sounds of falling snow. He'll put on an apron and pretend to be domesticated, and bake cookies and cakes and tease me with flour on my face. All the rooms will smell like cinnamon and the walls will sag with trophies of our lives together. Someday.