we’ll spend hours, wandering around your neighborhood, stretching out boundaries and borders, wondering how far they could possibly go. and we’ll laugh about stories, and people who don’t exist, but they do in our minds, so it’s all right. rant about the world, and our days, the things we love, the things we fucking hate; and who we might be someday, not far from now. yearn for 2023, and fear its arrival in the same breath. we’ll stay up late watching tv, trying not to think about death, and its inevitability. and i will hold your hand as we cross the street, and try to take friendship for granted, for the sake of my own sanity, but i just can’t stop thinking that someday, this is all gonna be taken away from me. and god, when did i stop living like a movie? when did i grow into this, this weird fake-reality, of hoodies and sneakers and secrets, crumpled up in my palm, because i’m not ready now. but someday, when i am, i’ll read them out before a crowd. we’ll show them all, won’t we?