hey. it's me again. i've written to you for what seems like every single second of every single minute of every single hour of every single day of every single week of every single month of every single year. everything i do, everything i say, everything always comes right back to you. i almost stopped by your house yesterday. i knew you weren't home, but i missed your mom. she was one of the sweetest ladies i ever had the privilege of meeting. she cooked for us, she baked for us, and honestly just seemed so genuinely happy. i only made it to your driveway. i probably would have made it to your doorstep but you have that security camera thing, and if i didn't go inside, i didn't want you to think i was weird. i'll probably write the same thing tomorrow.
i love you,
~l. b.
