I’d Rather Live In His World

 There was that night in the coldest winter months where we were anything but cold. 

We were in the kitchen together. That was his favorite place to be. 

I had gotten a lot of Sour Patch Kids for Christmas that I could never eat alone, and I wasn’t sure what to do with them all. 

Sour Patch cookies sound horrendous. 

We settled on covering them in chocolate and playing a game where we bet on which color we got before biting into the candy. 

It was goofy. They were disgusting. 

We started baking cookies instead. 

We worked together, laughing and listening to my “70s Bops” playlist. He didn’t know many songs, but that was okay. I was the one that was always singing. 

While we waited for the cookies to bake, I asked him to dance with me. 

He told me that he didn’t know how to dance, and I promised him it was easy. 

I grabbed his hands and put them on my waist before wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Midnight Train To Georgia” still makes me cry today. 

We swayed in small circles in the warm kitchen while the oven whirred and it snowed outside the window. 

“I’d rather live in his world than live without him in mine.”

-Emma Lancaster

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