let’s spend our week nights eating cereal on the floor
when there is a perfectly fine table behind us.
we can go to the movies and sit in the back row
just to make out like kids falling in love for the first time.
we’ll paint the rooms of our house
and get more paint on us than the walls.
we can hold hands and go to parties we end up
ditching to drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub.
and slow dance with me in our bedroom
with an unmade bed and candles on the nightstand.
let me love you forever.
I now realize that real love isn’t easy or simple, at least not for me. It is made up of laughing so hard you cry, embarrassing dance moves, nit-picking, arguments over who started the argument, kisses on the forehead, forgiveness, intimacy, fights, make-ups, home-cooked meals, vacations, anniversaries, pain, ups, downs and everything in between. But that look, that only the two of you share that says nothing and means everything, can still make you weak in the knees and vulnerable beyond measure. Real love is everything all at once right in the gut over and over again.
reblog if you’re the gay sister
I didn’t fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way. I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway. And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.
You had your sister call me? Really? Did you think I wouldn’t know her voice?
My dad would tell me that when we were little and people would say to him “wow, four daughters, that’s a lot of weddings to pay for” (because traditionally the bride’s family would pay for the wedding), my dad would respond with “well, we’re hoping at least one of them will be gay so we can split the cost with the other bride’s family”
He said people never knew how to respond
how many of you are gay?