Dear John,
i like how well the summer suited us and i like sleeping in with you. i like how you laughed when i said i wanted tea and hot chocolate mixed and i like how you got up to find something to fit the bill. sometimes i think if things could continue in this fashion, if i could contain everything in a beach blanket and a basket of salads and forks and cloth napkins and gross foam from the lake that perhaps we could last a very long time. however, it's already colder at night, i no long crank the air conditioning and things are sad after we've said them a couple times. your mouth tastes different without the heat and words sound different with the new calming wind. when the fall comes and you go somewhere else and when i stay here i'll pass lots of haunts and laugh. i'll press my hands hard against my handle bars, pull up my hood and say, i even started missing you then.
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