Shopping.

I want to go shopping with you. When you keep looking at the shut door blankly, waiting for me to come out in a novel outfit for the upteenth time.

I want to push you away when you wink at me, sly, when you think something looks hot on me.

Push you away when you try to get into that two by two enclosed square space.

.

Perhaps for the first time, I won't mind being told something doesn't look good on me, even when 2 moments back, I was dancing in it inside.

Awaiting for you to call me out, " try this?". I gruff, sigh, peep through the 2 inch open space and pull it through giving you a look, only to smile inside, knowing how precious all of this is.

.

Not that I'm a cliché but I won't deny I would love to see you once, only once get strangled in all my shopping bags while you huff and puff about me being a hasty little impulsive lifter.

.

Just once.

.

But I know it's too much to ask, and I know it's years before this stupid little dream, comes true, of mine.

.

It's okay, it's fine, I'm alright.