Diet.

3.2

The days were flying away.

Autumn and I became less physical and more verbal.

She would occasionally talk to me about colleges and careers and maybe even crack in one of her gorgeous smiles.

The way that her puffy hair would cover her shoulders and her big brown eyes would burst with excitement kept me in awe.

"I want to be a poet." I replied to her sitting across the dinner table from her.

Anesthesia and Romeo had been working overtime lately which left Autumn and I more time to be together.

She would often ask about my essay in which I would say, "It's amazing."

Leaving Autumn was not something I wanted to do. I hope that it doesn't come to that.