i'm not sure if i can remember how to write, but i want to relearn, just for you.  i want to have the freshest and happiest time of my life documented in some way, i want to write about you.  i need to learn how to write something cheerful instead of all the depressed and heartbroken crap i used to slap onto the page.  i want to capture your scent in words, your laugh in paragraphs.  i want you to be pressed not only between my pages, but between my sheets, between my arms, my legs, even.  i want your warmth to come through in my tone and your shy eyes, which have faded from a deep brown to a lighter hazel, to brighten up my words.  i want to be daring for you, to go do crazy stuff and laugh the whole way through.  i want you to see me as you never have before: silly, drunk, strong, motivated, outgoing, intimidating, naked.  i want you to turn your head back for a double-take every time i walk by with my chin held high.  you should be giddy each time i hold your hand or smile with my dimples showing.  when i hug you, you should pick me up off my feet and sway me back and forth like you did the other night.  i want you to be left in awe and lightheaded every time i kiss you.

what i'm trying to say is, i've been waiting for this since i was thirteen years old.  i've dreamed about you for the past eight years.  i want to watch you learn every inch of me, both psychologically and physically.  

when it comes down to it, i just want you.  and right now, i'm pretty impatient.  so come back home, and be quick about it.