A Drunk Toast To The Best Kinds Of Plot Twists.

I’ve read that the best kind of love is one in which the soul is awakened. I am not in love, and I am unsure if it’s indeed my soul, but something endlessly divine has been awakened inside of me. It started when the best kind of friend (One in which you have to build a solid foundation of banter in order to avoid a considerable amount of maudlin conversations detailing how truly perfect they are in your eyes.) Confessed her feelings for me. Instantly I was 7 years old again, up way past my bedtime, and watching my first Sunrise. God has colored the entire sky perfectly, and I still couldn’t color inside the lines of a singular square I thought. I had never seen or appreciated such beauty before. I knew that I never wanted to miss another, and I vowed that I wouldn’t. I promised forever to something I didn’t know existed, wanted, and possibly even needed moments earlier.

 

You see, What I’m trying to say is that… this friend was everything Magical in what was my first Sunrise.

I became entranced with ideas, and possibilities that I didn’t know existed moments earlier. I saw forever in a world I had previously thought to be fleeting. I saw the everlasting beauty in everything that was her. I was effortlessly lost in the wave of newfound passion. I put a grim emphasis on the term wave because waves come and go in an ocean of forevers and foundations.

With that said, My 7 year old self,  was peacefully asleep, on time, and couldn’t even manage to capture the sunrise the very next morning.

As for my best kind of friend, maudlin conversations and thoughts of perfection possibilities quickly faded back to banter.

So here I stand with a shot filled with an ocean of Hennessy toasting to wishes of being her ocean of forevers.

 

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