The night before your 8th birthday, twitching in your sleep from excitement; you wake early out of pure anticipation for the day ahead and spy colourful, beautifully wrapped presents of intriguing shapes and sizes perched by your feet at the end of your bed. Your 8 year old hearts thumps to the beat of expectation, your hands start reaching for the presents when you realise - I can't open them until everybody else wakes up! I want to tear the ribbons off and... I... cant!

A deep well of love simmers inside me, untapped. I just want to tear the ribbon off. I want to go for picnics in the park with someone I love talking to, to lie next to them and laugh my head off and feel safe, comfortable, more complete. I want to make treasure hunts on someones' birthday and go to parties with someone who will take me home when I become that silly irrational. girl who says senseless things about penguins and Weltschmerz after one too many Vodka-cranberries. I want to give to somebody, to look after someone, make someone soup when they're sick or buy surprises for them on a Wednesday, just because... its' Wednesday.