I promise I won’t always be this way. Living in between reasons to live made me unprepared and unaware of people getting close to me. I want you to live in a house with me. My books and scarves are all I have to offer. I’ll drink cup after cup of coffee, if you’ll serve it to me. The caffeine will make us shake as we complain that we don’t know who we are. Our bed will be a place where we sit with our cat and laugh about our day. When its sunny, we’ll pick fruits and vegetables from our garden in our dirty barefeet. I’ll sit in my rocking chair reading Chomsky, while you play mandolin all night. We won’t have any pictures from our past loves. Only empty frames on the wall. You won’t look at me with Holden Caulfield eyes. Only your rough hands. You’ll brush my hair and I’ll trim your beard. We eat too much and not sleep enough. You have a stupid haircut, but I don’t care. I have a yellow smile, but you don’t stare. Like I said, my books and scarves are all I have to offer. But, you could tell me all your secrets. I promise no one else would never know. This house be could our house. But, we only glance at each other. never saying a word to each other. I promise I won’t always be this way. Too scared to put my book down, turn my ipod off, and speak. One day I’ll be brave enough to not be a stranger. We’ll take a walk through prospect park and ditch all these things that are eating us alive. Memories of past lovers won’t haunt you from a stained futon. I’ll buy a queen sized bed. You’ll build me a big house. It could be our house.