Dearest friends who have disappeared.
You are the snow storm I've awaited to return. The definition of a word I can't remember, but's on the tip of my tongue.
I remember your walks, smirks, laughs and the way you liked your coffee. I wish I could order you back into my life like a strange contraption from an infomercial.
Loss is something I'm all too familiar with, yet loathe the existence of. How can I interchange the circumstances that have lead us...me...here?
Do you think you spot me on a street corner and wonder what you should do?
If our situation was a "choose your own adventure" book, would you pick a different ending?
Does a loud laugh, an intense stare or too many shots of tequila make you think of me?
Every tear shed is an omen to you, and I dont mind swimming in that.
May the sun hit your eyes, warm your skin and fill you with one moment of us, me, you...
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