i was reading nana.
thinking of it now, i don't want a husband.
i just want a girlfriend who can cope with me. who lives with me. who doesn't mind me smoking early mornings and can lay in bed all day under our blanket drinking tea. who i can photograph endlessly. who doesn't get mad about my insanity. that'd be enough for me. if she comes, i'll make her tea, vanilla i suppose. who doesn't think vanilla tea is the sweetest scent?
if that girl doesn't happen to come. i just want one with melancholic bedroom eyes, and smells like vanilla spice.
i can wash her in the bath like nana does. i can wash the everyday filth out of her skin like ben.
after all, that comical girl only ever reminded me of the girl that left my life. i imagined she would have smelled like cinnamon, and i would've been the one that smelled of vanilla - and she would be the one that washes me in the bath, the one i would've made tea for. but i never got the chace.
besides, if one had such sweetest in words and softness in hands, why wouldn't they have smelled like cinnamon?
