I hope that I don't fall in love with you...

Oh, Tom Waits. You provide the soundtrack to every moment of my imaginary life.

I'm sitting in a small little restaurant/cafe called Grandmas Corner. It's adorable, with blue collar food, atmosphere, and folk. I kind of love it.
It's run by a sweet mother and son team, who my imagination has latched onto. I see the son, a sandy haired proper Irish boy, looking at me often. And I see his mother noticing and smiling.
And I imagine what my life would be, attached to these people. I imagine early mornings, hard work, checkercloth table tops, home with sagging doors and warm kitchens. I imagine family, and strength, support and love. Kids and dogs, hard times, hard work, hard life.

And I fall a little in love with him, with them. I want her to approve of me, him to love me. I want that life, just for a moment.

I wish I could live each life I see, till the end. Not leaving unnaturally early, not hurting others, not disappointing them. I wish I could live all these lives to the fullest in a day, and then start over again the next morning.

Falling in love is so easy to do. It's the falling out that's hard.

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