lunes, 24 de febrero de 2014




"One day, he's going to know. He'll know your birthday, your middle name, where you where born, your star sign, and your parents names. He'll know how old you were when you learnt to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He'll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. He'll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour and song. He's going to know why you're awake at 5am most of the nights, where you were when you realised you'd lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went to far. He's going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes and your worries. He's going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream weeding, and your problems with your parents. He'll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He's going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dreams of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. He'll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it's his favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He's going to know that you've already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He's going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organize your DVD's alphabetically and check your horoscope... just in case. He'll know your McDonald's order, how many sugars to put in your coffee, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He's goint to know how you feel without you telling him, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you're crying without shedding tears, He's going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He's going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? He is still goint to love you. 
I wanna go back to the generation where a guy had to get permission from the girl's parents to ask her out. I wanna go back to the generation where a guy would physically call her and talk to her, not text. I wanna go back to the generation where your first kiss would be with someone you've been dating for months, not hookup with a guy you meet in a club. I wanna go back to the generation where a guy would give you his varsity jacket. I wanna go back to the generation where a girl can get any guy just by wearing a t-shirt, jeans and a pair of sneakers. I wanna go back to the generation where the guy wanted the girl, not always just the sex. I wanna go back to the generation where couples slow danced, not grind. I wanna go back to the generation where love actually made sense.