I like waking up
An hour before my alarm clock
So that I can roll onto my side
And pull the sheets up to my chin.

I like my bed, a lot.

I like airports a lot more
Than I’m ever going to like airplanes
And I like the look on my mother’s face
When she’s picking somebody up in arrivals.

I like having my hair played with,
And I like using the tips of my fingers
To draw on somebody’s skin.

I like being slightly cold, whenever I go to sleep at night.

I like putting chocolate chips on a spoon
And drowning them in my hot chocolate
Until the spoon becomes a puddle
Of melted milk-chocolate.

I like first kisses.
And second kisses.
And so on.

I like being in the water –
Floating on my back –
Treading water where I can no longer touch.

I like campfires,
And I never want to wash the smell out of my clothes.
I like the way the branches of pine trees
Crackle in the fire, like the sound of distant fireworks.

I like pizza on the beach.
And pizza.
And the beach – especially in the winter.
And in the summer.

I like long drives –
Sometimes, I am in a car,
And I find myself praying that the destination
Is just a little bit farther
So I can sit, a little while longer.

I like the way best friends hug.

I like the moment you tell somebody
How you feel about them.
And it’s awkward and you’re unsure and it’s messy.

I like forward text-messages (which is ironic in itself)
And throwing your phone against your bed
And wondering what the hell you just did.

I like putting my head on somebody’s chest.
I like hearing somebody else’s heartbeat.

I like weddings. A lot.
I like the look on the grooms face,
The brides face, everybody’s face.

I like laughter
When you’re overtired
And the world is fuzzy.

I like cottages, and lakes
And sitting on the dock until your butt hurts.

I like walking, for a really long time
Until somebody starts to open up
About something they would not have said
Sitting down.

I like hearing people talk about their family’s,
I like talking about my own.

I like the moment you notice that somebody is opening up to you.
I like holding on to that.

I like the way the world looks in the morning,
When I wake up for it.

I like the smell of coffee even though
I don’t ever drink it
And I like the way everybody has their own smell
And yet you can never notice your own.

I like all those awkward moments –

A lot more after they pass.

I like farms and barns and
I kind of like the smell of manure
Because it reminds me of parts of home.

I like the way country music makes you feel,
And I like the world a lot better from the view at my cousin’s pond.

I like finding a new song
And realizing how perfectly it relates
To everything you have been going through
And then listening to it on repeat.

I like watching people meet for the first time.

I like the little things that characterize small friendships –
The inside jokes –

Like fake marriages and forgetting each other’s names
And things that barely make sense.

I like drunk food, sober.

I like the moment you do something for the first time
Something that scares the shit out of you
Like surfing in the ocean
When you’ve never even swam in it before.

I like stepping out of your comfort zone
But never in the moment.

I like the way conversations begin
After you’ve said goodnight.

I like the way my parents look at each other,
And talk about each other – and talk to each other,
And I want that, one day.

I like the feeling I get when I’m in Vancouver
I like the person I became out here.

I like that all-encompassing feeling
When you sit on the edge of a mountain-top
And nothing in the world matters
While absolutely everything does.

I like the way it feels to fall asleep after you’ve cried
And what was once so heavy, feels just a bit lighter
For a brief period of time.

I like you, most likely.
But more when I get to know you.
I like your story, already,
I like the way you tell it.