deciding

dear diary?

i've decided that i want to be in the sahara desert. not in, exactly. but floating high up in the sky in a hot air balloon so the sand doesnt burn our toes. this is with you, of course. everything is with you. the running away to an enchanted forest [us being there, of course, is what makes it enchanting.] the building of the tree house that will never fall down -- no matter how windy it gets. the discovery of all the fears we never knew we had. the scaling up mountains just to tear up our lungs from screaming out our secrets to the clouds. [we can almost touch them, that's how high we are. and our secrets float right through them, making their way to the ground like rain.] the drawers full of notes that we write to each other even though we're together all the time. the sunburns the mosquito bites the scabs that turn to scars on our skin. the sahara desert. everything is with you. i've decided that's what i want to do.
and on another note: everything is a dream that came true. you know you can't deny it. even when you think you are sleeping in nothing other than darkness, your future is playing out its course inside your head. everytime i see you it's another deja vous. [what a strange sensation that is.] and you don't even know who you are.