dear j,
i want you back here. i miss you.
where'd you go? i miss you..
i heard you've been doing nothing but work outside, not even stopping when it gets too cold. to keep your mind off things..
j, please stay warm.
you're working too hard.. i hear you have trouble getting up.
im having trouble sleeping.. i don't bother trying much in school, keeping the smile on my face is enough effort.. we both know im not one for school. But i much rather be there, than here. but i doubt you care.
i got called beautiful today. just thought id include some of the things you're missing, though i have a feeling you don't care much of what happens to me.
It was by my best friend, Damian.. with an A, not an O..
i miss your ways. daring, brave.. i miss everything about you, j. your fluffy hair, your personality, how'd you come and tackle me in your PDI ripped navy blue jacket, me forcing you off. but of course no, you're too strong for your own good, j.
I even miss your smoke breath, mixed with some form of cologne. your disgusting ways of horking.. even your comments about me growing up to be the girlfriend who does fuck all and smokes pot all day. Rasta babe \m/
Or how we'd go out late at night to the store, or out on the porch and id sit there indie style, you smoking, and the dog running around. we'd just sit there and talk, no worries.
God damn it, j! I fucking miss you, I can never stop talking about you to Kayla, how much i miss you.
