want want want want want

Want want want want want; . . . .

I have decided that i want to marry a guy with the last name Garcia. It just sums up the stereotypical spanish male, walking topless around the villa with droplets of water clinging to his pitch black hair from the swim in our pool. Boy oh boy! Steamy dreamy chunk of hunk purh-lease! But its all want want want want want.

i want him to kiss me on the forehead, right between the eyes when i am worried.

i want him to take candid pictures of me.

i want him to love the sea and sun as much as i do.

i want him to have arms that i can cling on to and feel safe when i am in them.

i want him to smell good.

i want him to be musical and want a house full of instruments.

i want him to love the world.

i want him to want to travel.

i want him to laugh at me when i am being stupid and sometimes join in to make fun.

i want i want i want i want i want. . . . .

oh wait......

A Million Miles From Me . . . .

Even though he isn't far, 20 minuites away seems like an eternity when i see couples that live around the corner. I wish i could just hop on my bike and turn up at his unanounced and randomly chill on his bed listening to music.

Dream World Of The Future. . . .

I wonder how long we will last. If we will last. At the moment we are all cup-cakes and fairy dust dotes in the sun, but is it real? Are we real enough to last? Or are we enough of a scatter-brain pair that time won't matter and we will buzz our way through life? Because i know i want to travel. To all these foreign lands, with different food and different dress and different languages, and i know he wants to too. How can we be so alike but so different at the same time? It seems perfect. He has ticked everything on my want list [ minus the 'Garcia' clause :\ ] and he seems like a dream world. My dream world.