Wearing The Presence

Like Sunday should be, I read a book, lit a candle, boiled some water and made hot chocolate and tea.  This girl likes her beverages.  And for those who know, the less calories the better!  The more beverages, the less I feel tied down by commitment.  I am loaded down with sugar right now and strong doses of nicotine.  

We talked about the train the other night, but not about the whistle that blows.  I am reminded right now because my pot just came to a boil.  

Don't worry.  There is no hidden meaning above.  I am just making iced tea for tomorrow.  I over-compensate for my procrastination by planning ahead excessively.  

I could not sleep last night.  I did not want to.  

I am wearing a presence today in the air around me, left behind by James and the marshmallow fortress we created.  Really there was no fortress, but it's the only way to describe the feeling of sweet delicate security.  

I am dressed much like a six year old right now.   Two purple shirts on because I couldn't chose between them; a beaded headband; green eyeshadow with sparkles in it.  I am drinking hot chocolate disguised as vanilla chai out of an over-sized pink cup.  My hands feel small around the cup and when I take a sip, my feet lift up from the ground so that I may admire my purple tennis shoes with the pink ribbon across the top.  

Six years old, it's true... that's how I feel.

I started smoking when I was seven.  

This is my sentiment.

And below is an afterthought for intended audience primarily consisting of inhabitants of marshmallow fortresses and the like:

If I had a hat with your name I would wear it right now.  

If the hat was defined by my feelings for you, I would pull it down around my ears and tuck my hair into it.  It would be a pet-hat.  An embodiment of:  

 my wishes for you, 

all things smile-inducing 

and freedom-producing.  

Of course, the disclaimer now must be stated.  All of these things are from my imagination except the description of my outfit.  Interpret as you see fit.