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growing down

I want to sit in a 3rd floor kitchen at dawn
looking out of wide open windows
without screens
watching the world wake up. 

I want the chill of autumn air
on my skin;
a hot cup of black coffee steaming
in my hands.
I want the wind to blow through the windows
making the sheer white curtains in front of them
dance like uninvited but absolutely welcome ghosts. 

I want Nick Drake playing on the radio,
a sweet scent in the air,
their laughs and stories
one at a time,
and you
always.

In retrospect I see that, somehow, when I got married something clicked in my brain that indicated "Daniel, you are now an adult and must act like one without exception". Yet, ironically, I am now more suited to be childish and cater to my whims than I have ever been.

I have a regular paycheck, a steady job, and a respectable career. I also have my wife: a source of constant love and unwavering acceptance. No matter how far off course I go, or which absurd path I follow, I know that my wife will always be there to help me find my way in the darkness and help me back to solid ground. Never before have I been in a position more capable of allowing me to seek out my fantasies, follow my gut, explore my lusts, kindle my loves, and enjoy things simply for the thrill of it. And, to top it off, I have another set of fantasies, instincts, lusts, loves, and thrills to weave into my own, and the most incredible and beautiful girl in the world to share it all with.

There's no reason whatsoever for me to grow up, be so responsible, so adult, so… old. So I'm not going to. From now on, I'm growing down.

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