And so I found myself staring at a picture that had your face. I wonder how you are. Merry Christmas, by the way. Do you still remember me and all that I was to you? I do. I remember all you are to me. The glances, the smiles, the whispers, the you and me sitting on a swing. It was morning full of hope, just as I was.

I remember the letter. Do you remember the last part? I hope you'll make it through like how people get through the night til come daylight, another day will come, another hope. Another swing to sit on. You staring at me as I at you. Hey, all I want for Christmas? Us..

But a want is not necessarily something to behold. I'll keep staring at this face that is you. I'll keep your photograph and your words until then. But until then I'll be thinking, you're another promise broken.