We’re getting older, but our jokes stay the same.
In the best way.
It feels like maybe we won’t ever feel like grownups, and I like that. I secretly hope that if we manage to become grownups one day, we never actually feel as though we are. I don’t ever want to feel like we’re too old to cheat the system. Or to drive across the bridge with a stylishly dressed, life-size stuffed animal of Clifford the red dog, so that we can pretend it’s a real person that’s sleeping in the back seat so that we can get away with free 3-person carpool. Or to run away to South America. Or sneak up to the sixth floor of the Ritz Carlton for tea time, and eat ourselves sick with endless amounts of chocolate covered strawberries while pretending to have accents.
Because then where would all the fun be?
I love that I don’t have to filter my aimlessness with you.
I love that you encourage freedom.
Crepes on the deck are forever in my mind.
I still feel like we’re at Peter’s Pumpkin Patch.
Except now the guy scaring the fucking shit out of us from the haunted house…
Is just life itself.
I want to be back in the car, eating pumpkin pie, using credit cards for spoons.
You are one of the only people who can manage to make me laugh hard in between crying harder than I ever have. I can’t think of anyone I would have rather had pick me up from the airport on that day; the worst day of my life.
Love always.