Let’s go out at 2 in the morning when we both can’t fall asleep,
watch the stars in the sky across Chalet Woods,
watch the light from the lampposts reflect across the windows on the houses down the street
so that we can see our reflections,
and we can joke about how there’s evidence of alternate realities.

And when we watch the stars
—let’s talk about existential stuff—
like what we wanna do in ten years
or who we wanna be when we grow up
or why water is wet
or why it isn’t wet
or why it doesn’t really matter.

Let’s go running in the park,
run so fast that we forget how to walk.
Let’s listen to some music together,
we’ll take turns picking a song.
Let’s make fun of each other when it’s music we don’t like,
and flatter ourselves when we do.
Let’s roll down the hill like times haven’t changed,
and when we land on the ground,
let’s look up at the hill
like it’s something we’re going to go up for the first time.

Let’s go out and bike onto the highway,
even if it’s not allowed.
Let's pretend our bikes are cars,
even if it would be so unsafe,
because we can pretend we’re going somewhere
we always wanted to go.

When we get there,
let’s talk about how the place is so different than we imagined it would be,
look for all the beautiful parts of it
just like how you look at the beautiful parts of me.
Let’s do that for places people always seem to talk horribly of,
and let’s go elsewhere to share them
because every place is someone’s home,
and every place is someone’s fond memory,
and every place is someone’s dream,
and they all deserve a good story to tell.

I like to think so, at least.

Let’s forget about the way it’s supposed to be.
Maybe it won’t matter when we’re doing any of these things
because the fact that it all means nothing
means we can make something out of it.

So, what do you say?

Let’s go out at 2 in the morning:
let’s go out at 2 in the morning when we both can’t fall asleep.