The smell of cut grass, cigarettes, and vanilla malts will always bring you back

The other night sitting by the fire, alone, the smell of smoke and musty flannels, I could not resist remembering that bitter fall night

But that's just the thing.
I can't touch you, hear you, or love you anymore. And I'm not sure I'd want to anymore.

You've changed to much.

I have created a new you in my head. One who thinks about me and everyday, listens to the song coming home from work, and tears up, and searches my name on Google.

I know that's not true though, you've became like a different person. You don't think about me, you forgot about the songs. The hot, sticky, and humid summer nights yelling at each other through the teared screen door. you forgot about us at the counter in the no smoking area, smoking, drinking vanilla malts. I hated that I loved you and loved how much I would so often,
end up hating you.
I loved this love roller coaster. It was exceptionally thrilling.