and we would run sometimes

Warning: This blog will make no sense. You have been warned.

God, you know, you're just beautiful. Do you know that? Do you realize that every breath you take and gently exhale releases the sweetest air into the atmosphere?

I want to buy a coloring book and spend 5 and a half hours just coloring in it so that I can calm down about how much I'm still so in love with you and your beauty and you made me laugh one time, so much that I forgot that I was supposed to be sad. When I look at cement and concrete and clouds I always get this urge to just lie down, just lie and stare and exist and be and I always wanted to like roller coasters but they never seemed to agree with me much.

You know I met you in an alleyway 23 years ago back when neon was actually cool. I think I must have told you secrets then thrown them away on paper airplanes and plastic gym equipment. You have a knack of flying away with my thoughts and words and feelings.

When it rains, I imagine your reflection in the glassy pools of gutter water and when the planetarium seems to sway behind the mist your voice seems to distantly quiver with the winds and the rain.

I didn't used to care about being pretty until I was eleven and it mattered.

What happened to bare feet and finger paint and muddy jeans?

You still smell like summer, even far away. I just thought you should know.

My friend pointed out that this song reminds her of me. It reminds me of me, too.
And just ignore the awful New Moon clips. Though it probably won't be awful because Chris Weitz is directing it.