Here’s how I want to talk about things from now on:

Like we mean it.

Like there’s something bubbling on the stove, resting in the oven, growing in the garden. Like we have purpose and patience. I want to hear you cry after you’ve burst yourself wide open in laughter, I want to see you savor what it feels like to hear the waves.

I want to be a people who gather when there’s a harvest and sit when there’s a wake. Fall does this to me, so does rain. When my little charges scatter and it’s down to me and the pantry and the bruised pages of my favorite cookbooks, and coffee. I want so much more for you and me, for us. To be together, but like, really together. I want to get drunk on knowing this will never end.