Two years ago today: if you had told me I would be staring at the top of swinging redwood trees, picking blackberries and watching the sky change color on his birthday, I would have laughed in your face. Two years ago today if you had told me that I would be preoccupied with someone new, blowing the puffs off of dandelions for—no, not him—but for me, howling at the hills across from an eagle’s nest with a girl with blue hair and a boy that smells like cinnamon on his birthday, I would have said, ‘Sure, when pigs fly.’ Two years ago today I was hung up on someone with the memory like a goldfish and a navy blue soul that couldn’t match my bright red, hoping that the change of his age would equate with the change of his game, and waiting for the day that his birthday was just another day. Two years ago, I was waiting for today.
happy birthday, sucker (via killedink)
