Novembre 2011
Him.
I wake up thinking about you often, I daydream about you considering what I’ve said and accepting it. I dream about the slightness of your lips, your dirty blond facial hair and your weird southern drawl. I wonder if I was being fake the entire time, I wonder if I showed you who I actually am. Sometimes I think I can smell your scent in my bedroom. I worry I’ll never see you again. The...