I want to be the kind of girl to always make lists. To leave lipstick stains. To wake early on Sundays and read the supplements from cover to cover. To wear her hair in a messy top knot and spend hours at her laptop with only green smoothies and soya chai lattes for sustenance.
To own a dog. I desperately miss my dog.
To wear a watch for the beauty, not for the time. To wear ankle boots in autumn and the shortest of shorts in the summer sun. To grow her hair long(er) and let it find its own waves and kinks.
To never be without painted nails.
To send notes when she’s thinking of someone. To not be afraid to tell someone she cares. To scream louder than anyone on rollercoasters and not be self-conscious when she feels someone reading her own words over her shoulder.
To dance without a care for the camera. To run through puddles and squeal when the splashes hit. To always carry a notebook. To never buy a cheap notebook. Her hesitant words deserve a beautiful home.
To take selfies in public without pretending she’s not. To not be ashamed of the number of selfies she takes. To humble-brag her way through the good times and admit when the times start to turn.
To never be without earrings.
To drink eight glasses of water per day. To pull off a hat with aplomb. To write crappy poetry that only her eyes will see.
To watch French films about life and love and let herself well up at the beauty of it all. To give her number to stangers with whom she makes eye contact on the tube. To take the tube more often.
To graciously accept her own flaws. To not despair when she posts an Instagram picture with a filter she later decides she hates. To sing in the shower, in the car and into the mic at karaoke.
To be able to apply eyeliner with precision.
To admit to her mistakes. To apologise when she’s been an arsehole. To remember that it’s all relative but to still have at least a modicum of perspective when it seems like her whole world’s crumbling.
To call her parents every week. To call her best friends just because. To write letters to her grandad. To put pen to paper.
To read every night. To rave every morning. To never stop being intense with her emotions and to never apologise when she is.
I want to be the kind of girl to always make lists.