If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't speak often, please post a comment with a memory of you and me. It can be anything you want, either good or bad. I promise not to come after you with a blunt weapon of some sort, either way
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Gym class ninth grade; being rebels and not changing...but playing anyway.
"What are you doing here?"
"Math homework."
Long drives. Georgetown. Bitching. Notes. Chicken?
Dashboard. Singing in your car. Talking.
...I miss you. Don't worry though, I'm home next friday!
Love you.
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You better call me to let me know when you're home, 'cause I miss you, too. Much love, hon.
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