i was standing before you, in your basement. it was summertime. i knew this because of the beads of sweat on your face. i was wearing your favorite dress.did you really have a favorite dress, or did i just pretend you liked the one with the flowers?
you never really gave me any indication of clothing preferences.
we were arguing, and you slumped all of your six feet two inches down on the couch. your blonde hair covered your eyes, and i wanted desperately to move it, but i knew you didn't want me touching you. to my left, the TV was on, i couldn't tell what show. my hair was long, and black, like it is now, but it was falling down my back in thick curls, not frumpy waves ruined by snow. i threw my hands up, and started to head for the sliding glass door. you ran to me, and hoisted me up.
"i love you," you said, kissing my cheek.
"i love you too, asshole," i replied, squirming out of your grip.we layed down on the couch, and i couldn't stop kissing you.
everything after that was a blur, but the end of my dream. the lights were off. i was standing. you were laying. then the lights came on, and you were staring at me, with a cloudy disposition.
"we will always crush each other, every time." you said, completely monotone. then you were gone. so was your basement. and i was back in the snow. all i was wearing were my bouncy, black curls, and some melted snow trickling down my bare chest. cold. how you make me feel.