Last night I closed my eyes and dreamt of quiet morning coffee out on the open patio, with the soft crashing of waves faintly audible over the caws of gulls and static rumblings of rubber tires on Pacific Coast Highway somewhere nearby. Golden skin, sleepy smiles, there we sat idling the morning by, weaving carefree laughs into the gentle ocean breeze.
One day I saw a lone set of footprints in the snow. Within a few moments it faded into blurs of white, leaving no trace behind except the sudden realization that everything eventually ends and becomes forgotten. But if a lone set of footprints in the snow could tiptoe on the heart like this, then maybe life’s transience isn’t so bad after all.
We’re surrounded by revived remnants from older times – modern Polaroids, refurbished record players, 2018 Levi’s overalls. But whatever happened to vintage romance? I hope you’ll still get to impulsively slow-dance in the street to the faint strains of a familiar tune, or come home to a postmarked love letter in your mailbox. I hope you’ll still be surprised by flowers sent to your desk on a random Wednesday, or share fears and dreams while lying on a blanketed rooftop looking up at the stars. It’s little moments like these, when two roots of a blossoming plant gradually learn to intertwine, that make vintage romance the classic love stories that they are.
The other day, I sat on the M train lost in sour thoughts of the day. Suddenly, another train emerged out of the darkness and as I watched us ride parallel for a few swift seconds until the underground blackness swallowed the second train again, I felt my entire mood lift. And in that moment, I realized that I never want to become someone who stops finding happiness in the smallest things.
With thirty minutes until sundown, we raced towards the waves, kicking up clouds of sand as our feet danced across the beach. The sky broke in fits of pink and lavender, and with it, so did the memories of this past year that were romanticized by broken hearts and nostalgic minds.
It had been one raw and unforgiving year in the best way, and as the sun reached down to meet the horizon, we promised ourselves to embrace the new year: to stay soft and hopeful in a world that changes too fast and hardens too quickly, to find happiness that fits our tempo – all the greatest gifts we’ll ever give ourselves.
The lights flickered as we cheerily crunched against the gravel, the December chill creating fog with our breaths. This twinkling Christmas Eve amidst this darker season – such are the moments we endlessly create.
sometimes when it’s raining
I look out the window view
and I wonder if it’s raining
wherever you are too