Heard this over the radio while driving yesterday and I thought: Wouldn’t it be nice if we were back together? Or has the moment when it could have worked out well for us passed months ago? I remember it was after a movie date on a Sunday, much like today, when we decided to take a stroll (because neither of us were ready to leave each other yet even though we had to work the next day) and go for a night coffee.
Settling down with a warm mug of hot chocolate in my hands and a hot takeaway cup of latte in yours, we started talking about the world where we would live together in a cozy apartment and the items which would have a glory spot in our kitchen. Much like the Hollywood walkway where I will stick gold stars on them and outline their shapes in soft mud. The dream kitchen list, we called it.
I wanted an oven and a blender for all the roast dinners and healthy margaritas juices I’d make. Oh, and a coffee maker for my cappucinos. You agreed. I added tofu, bacon, frankfurters, mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise and tomatoes. You nodded six times and gave a face at the last item. You wanted a toaster, jam, brie cheese, picnic ham, pasta, pasta sauces and a jar of pickles. I approved enthusiastically. And our list went on and on.
But the must-have we both agreed unanimously and also the clincher which made us realised we might be possibly meant for each other for all: bottles of red wine, whiskey and ginger ale in our fridge.
Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up
In the morning when the day is new
And after having spent the day together
Hold each other close the whole night through
But the world which we used to talk about no longer exist now. Obviously. Maybe if I think and wish and hope and pray, it might still come true. And then we or at least one of us would be happy. Wouldn’t it be nice?