Confessions

I wish I had waited for you, he said. If we're still together in a few years, I'm marrying you, he added.

The following Tuesday after those statements, he told me his deepest, darkest, secret. He said he cried about it for two days, knowing that I would've broken up with him once he finished his confession. It ended up being something more along the lines of confessing that he once stole ten bucks from his mom's purse back in Grade 5. He's so silly sometimes.

We are both incessant worrywarts, addicted to dissecting worst-case scenarios. We discuss marriage as much as we discuss STDs. For the first time, I feel like I can see someone waiting for me at the end of the aisle, yet we are both adamant that we not be each other's impediment to our own goals; his is China and mine is New York.

I've started exploring Breakbot remixes; I think they engender thoughts of summer in my mind, a season that Toronto hasn't quite been willing to bestow upon us just yet.