There are two types of waiting. There’s the the waiting you do for something you know is coming, sooner or later—like waiting for the 6:28 train, or the school bus, or a party where a certain handsome boy might be. And then there’s the waiting for something you don’t know is coming. You don’t even know what it is exactly, but you’re hoping for it. You’re imagining it and living your life for it. That’s the kind of waiting that makes a fist in your heart.

‘I don’t want to talk as much,’ she said, denting her chin thoughtfully with her forefinger. ‘It’s nicer to think dear, pretty thoughts and keep them in one’s heart, like treasures. I don’t like to have them laughed at or wondered over.’

replace the bolded and italicized with what’s true about you

If I were a month, I’d be December.

If I were a day of the week, I’d be Sunday.

If I were a planet, I’d be Venus.

If I were a sea animal, I’d be a starfish.

If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be an armchair.

If I were a gemstone, I’d be an amethyst.

If I were a flower, I’d be a peony.

If I were a kind of weather, I’d be sunny, with a light warm breeze.

If I were a color, I’d be purple.

If I were an emotion, I’d be enchantment.

If I were a fruit, I’d be a raspberry. 

If I were an element, I’d be water.

If I were a place, I’d be a sunny, white painted, wooden floored country house, with plenty of window seats with coloured cushions and its own library.

If I were a taste, I’d taste like gummy bears.

If I were a scent, I’d be the smell of the gardens after summer rain.

If I were an object, I’d be a book.

If I were a body part, I’d be eyes.

If I were a song, I’d be flame trees - sarah blasko.

If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be chucks.

(Source: justalittlegreen)