heartbeat city

When I was twelve I met a couple that had recently fallen in love. They met on the street in Los Angeles, where he lived, and then went to where she lived: her flats in London and in Amsterdam. She spoke a lot of independence. They brought me a wooden box of chocolates and outside of books and movies, the two of them were the most romantic thing I’d ever seen. 

They shaped my early ideas of things like life and love. It was simple: I would own my own apartment, naturally in Europe. I would bring young women boxes of chocolates. I would meet my husband while walking to the chocolatier.

Seeing them no longer gives me any good ideas. They seem tired of things like life and love. Sixteen years have passed, I was twelve, not yet in touch with reality, I know this, however, I can’t help it; I still want to be the woman bearing the wooden box of Dutch chocolates.

Eyes filled with sugar, brain rich with serotonin.