the other side of someday

The ideal weekend would consist of the following (or combinations of it), in no particular order :

Witty repartee
Soul baring conversations
Stargazing in wee hours
Sunrise watching
Sleeping in
Waking up to familiar aromas
Being encased in someone’s arms
Wearing a significant others’ oversized yesterday clothes
Making breakfast for two
Long brunch spiked with silent contentment
Road trips into the sunset
Cloud watching
You.

*please insert girly longing sigh while staring out of the window here*

So much for the manifesto. *kicks self in mid air*

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