we listened to oldies in his grandfather's car, talked about mailboxes & how someday i'll drive an ice cream truck.
it's getting colder outside, autumn is here. it reminds me of him, of last year, of my infatuation with incubus, of writing lyrics on my walls...
of allowing myself to "fall" (as they like to call it nowadays) without much thought, putting myself into it.
not as cautious, perhaps.
i wonder if he still believes he sees signs everywhere. my penpal hasn't changed.