drizzled

I am talking to a beautiful.woman, who I havn’t seen in A Hundred Years. This friend really is beautiful: a smile that slurps you up all warm and happy, soaks you with love and drizzles you in isn’t.the.world.a.great.place.to.be.ness.

One of the things I love about her is how she’s tactile: arms entwined and shoulders squeezed and always the last to let go in a big hug. It’s not how I naturally am but definitely how I would [more] like to be.

Anyway. This lovely.lady is telling me how she is going to Mexico.

oh! [i coo]. Mexico! The food and the colour and the light and the people and. oh! I would love!love to go. And there she goes again, smiling that smile and drenching me in swoony happiness.

well [she replies]. No one else has said that. Everyone else has said: why Mexico?

Really? [I’m curious]. I don’t get it. Where are you meant to go?

Folk are funny, I reckon. Set ideas about how to live: where to go, what to do, how to do it, when to do it, who to do it with. [Exhausting really.]