We were crazy, like children introduced to chocolats. And we stood there on top of the picnic table, laughing and screaming until our sides burst and our breaths were thin as paper dolls pinned up to bulletin boards (but we broke free). I don't even remember what we were laughing about, but it was the greatest feeling in the world. "We should record our lives" (I think that is absolutely briliant). If I could document every living moment where I really existed in that moment, in that place in time, I could replay it when all I could feel like was losing myself. "11:11!" I shouted, and then we squeezed our eyes shut and prayed that maybe we'd get our wishes (I wished for him to love). We giggled nonsenses into the gigantic celestial sphere of stars, our voices lost between crackling leaves, ready to turn red and orange for fall. When they get crunched on during autumn, the echoes of our laughter will seep out like water from a sponge (I am sure of it). I believe in the law of attraction. I believe in fate, in sunday sundaes, in eating oranges at 2 am, and in loving you. All I can breathe is your scent between my bedsheets and when I begin to miss you too much, I always pull knotted straw wrappers, hoping you're thinking of me. Believe, believe, believe.
I believe in you.
Please believe in me.
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