Kitafee

Today, i told you that i wish i lived in Paris. I didn't tell you i dreamt of living with a skinny, indie boyfriend, who played the guitar and liked cooking, who would wander through the pretty parts of the city with me, taking pictures of everything beautiful and singing Regina Spektor under our breath. You smiled and said "I wish i lived there too!" You didn't suggest that we moved there together, or anything romantic, we just high fived. Nothing ever seems to go like how it all pans out in my head. I never muster up enough courage to just tell you, outright, that i think we'd be so perfect together, even though you smoke, even though