you should be here- a collection of random thoughts

au

i am 29, you 30 and we have this nice, inviting condo somewhere in a northern city. we're in our kitchen with marble countertops making macarons and tea. 

i hear a baby cry. i am confused. we never planned to have kids yet, there is an infant, about 5 months old, crying for a bottle in our room. 

i am happy but confused because reality keeps barging in and reminding me that i can't get pregnant and you can't carry children. 

you stop what you're doing and begin to prepare a bottle. the cries get louder. i'm so damn confused. i continue to mix the macaron batter as you feed the weeping child. 

"figure 8s," i say in my head, "mix until you can make figure 8s."

the baby's no longer crying and you come into the kitchen with flushed cheeks and tired eyes. but you're smiling with the baby boy resting in your arms. 

i don't remember the baby's face, i just remember realizing that the child wasn't biologically ours. 

you always say that you're not good with kids but the way you interacted with that child showed that you were fit to be a caregiver. 

the macarons were now ready to go in the oven and the tea was finished. 

the infant child is giggling, bouncing up and down on your legs as you hold his hands. your eyes are sparkling and i can tell that you adore this child. 

my heart feels warm and golden,  everything feels so domestic. 

i wouldn't mind living a little life like that with you.