judypatricia

I remember my father taking me to the movies, when I was growing up. And I remember my mother singing along with the radio, waking me up, every weekend morning, as she was cleaning our little house. I remember the first time I met my father's current wife, before they married, before my parents divorced; I remember where I was, but I don't remember seeing her face. I remember watching nature programs on the small black and white television, in my grandparents' kitchen, with my grandpa. I remember bringing my dog home from the breeder, when he was a puppy, and holding him the entire car ride. I remember hating waking up early Saturday mornings to go to dancing school; but I loved wearing the different costumes we had each year, for our recitals. I remember going trick-or-treating with my older cousins. I remember crying so hard when my glasses broke in the sixth grade. I remember the smell of the hairspray, and the itchiness of the sequins from the dance costumes. I remember that I hated having to hold hands with a "buddy" when going on school trips. I remember going to my grandpa's wake, and leaving early with a neighbor, to buy cookies from a bakery for my relatives to have when they came home. I remember how my ex-boyfriend never bought me flowers, but when he did, they were amazing. I remember my mother saying good night to me, the evening before I started the first grade. I remember the sleep-overs I used to have and go to, with two girls that were my best friends. I don't remember my first kiss.

I loved the feeling of a good report card. I love sitting in restaurants or coffee shops, with good company. I love being home alone. I love listening to loud, girly music, and singing so loud only because no one can hear me, when I get dressed. I loved openly staring at my tattoos, when they were new. I love a good read. I love being in Manhattan on nice days, and noticing everything. I love that I now love coffee, even though I used to hate it. I loved when I was still small enough for my father to be able to pick me up, and I remember crying one day when he told me I was getting too big. And I loved standing on his feet as he'd dance me around the kitchen or living room. I love not having to finish a sentence around someone who knows exactly what you mean. I love movies so good or sad they make you cry. I love the feel of another person lying on top of you. I love twirling a strand of my hair. I love waking up to someone's arm around your waist, and then when they feel you stir, they pull you closer. I love when the air is cold but still. I love my hands. I love when people genuinely find something funny. I love kissing. I loved the feeling of drawing something and being surprised that it came out of me. I love a good song. I love getting older.