letters to lovers.

eight people who changed my life

number one:

a girl, 

with eyes like autumn,

and a laugh that is

simply infectious.

childhood friends that just missed each other.

number two:

a boy, 

who seemed so angry,

(he was)

but when i was faced with defeat, he spoke to me in the softest of voices.

number three:

tall,

with something about him that instantly felt like home

and a smile that made me feel warmer than i had in months.

days and nights blended together, 

becoming little more than card games, the night sky, and the feeling of someone else's fingers 

laced with mine.

the sharp contrast between taylor swift-

and classic rock.

the softer contrast between here-

and the rest of the world.

i fell in love,

but not with any one person.

oh no, 

i fell in love with the place, the people, 

the sunsets and late nights,

the feeling of belonging 

and longing to be the person i was here all the time

i think to myself,

think about how lucky i am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.

number four:

interstellar,

for the fact that we had both lost our fathers.

yet she continued to shine,

shine as bright as the stars that were her namesake.

with her,

i felt like someday i could shine again too.

number five:

another boy,

only, this time, there was no flash of lightning.

no spark.

no warmth.

merely just the comfort of another's presence,

the soft sounds of guitar and his music

filling up my mind at night when i cannot sleep

number six:

a girl- no, a woman.

it is the last night and she proposes to me with tears in our eyes

i have been chosen to carry on her legacy

it hurts, but amidst all the pain there is pride.

but, most importantly, there is love.

love between all of us for simply existing at the same time in one place.

number seven:

another one.

he sings,

sings sinatra,

sings songs that belong elsewhere, 

they are timeless, like him.

he has so much more compassion than anyone gives him credit for.

the rush of blood, 

the adrenaline,

for once it is not from fear, but excitement.

weightless.

as i am picked up,

spun around,

held so tightly i can't breathe.

there was something magical about that first night.

just a group of teenagers,

still practically children,

listening to music

and talking about their fleeting lives that exist only under these stars.

number eight:

finally, 

a mentor, 

a guide.

someone who means it when she says she loves what she does.

her stories

are fascinating.

her eyes

light up when she cares about something.

somehow, in such a short time, she's made a massive impact.

this place is everything,

it's american pie,

it's friendships, new and old.

it's sweat,

it's tears,

it's lipstick smudges.

grass-stained blankets and the sounds of soft jazz.

it's sleepy good mornings and exhausted good nights.

it's running, lots of running, because, in many ways,

it's truly the end of the world as we know it.

it's the end of my world.

this is and always will be home.

it's tradition,

it's spirit,

it's giving your all when you don't even know what your all is.

more than anything, though, it's you.

it's not just 8 people, or 80 people.

it's all of you.

just being here has changed my life,

and it has made it infinitely better.

you have made me

infinitely better.

you have made me who i am, and for that, i am eternally grateful.

i love you.