Maybe One Day
Maybe one day I will change my mind about coriander, bananas and mangoes. But I wouldn't hold my breath if I was you.
Maybe one day I will not be petrified of sharks, heights, thunderstorms and walking on subway grates. But I honestly don't think so.
Maybe one day I will dance unselfconsciously in a room full of people; eyes closed, shoulders and hips relaxed and only the beat of the music to keep me company. But I'm not confident of the chances.
Maybe one day I will be able to resist the tempting allure of chocolate. But I really hope not.
Maybe one day we will live in one of those beautiful houses in the West Village, the brick walls will be covered in lush green ivy which entangles a scarlet front door. My boots will scuff on those eight steps leading up to it from the street; and every night as I slide my key into the lock I will relish the sound of that small click.
Maybe one day we will regret the choices we have made, even if it's just for the most fleeting of moments. But I know with absolute certainty that the memories we have already made and are yet to make together, those-perfectly-imperfect-moments that are (and will be) filled with our love, laughter and happiness will shine across any hint of a shadow.
Maybe, no - most certainly, one day when our faces are filled with the deepest of laugh lines and our hair has long faded to grey we will turn to each other and know that we did it right. Maybe that day, that day that is long yet in our future, you will slide your hand into mine and we will look back with hearts and memories as full as they have ever been. As full as they could ever be. As full as anyone could possibly hope for.