mission impossible

This past week saw me spending too much time rollin' around in bed. The one above to make up for the lost night, the spontaneous night and the weekend night. I've seen too much of the day break; morning light streaming in as we awake from a clumsy slumber to the most appropriate song (I get around) to creep down the stairs we creeped up the night before. Indulgent to say the least; the syrupy afterglow of tangled limbs. Perhaps it's the romantic notion of being doe-y eyed in soft, yellow light that's clouding my version of this. I noted an interesting level of intimacy as I watched you maneuver around my room almost too easily, picking up this and tossing aside that. These plans are just dreams at the moment what with authority that needs to be konsulted and what not. Not dreaming too big for sure because you've still kept your keen sense of reality. "It's not the next step, it's just companionship and what not" As much as it stung to hear, it did relieve a great deal of worry on my end though let's face it, I am far more realistic to say that it already is the next step, no matter how much you deny it. Well, we can dream I guess. I wonder if I've let it become too much of my world already but there's really no use denying that I'm just that kind of girl.

we're on a mission and it's outta whack