I want you to know that I have gotten better at not thinking about you. I’m tired of stroking my pen across the paper just to write the same old story but you’re stuck in my head like an overplayed song on the radio and you inspire me in the saddest way. So maybe I haven’t gotten much better, but even a little progress is still progress, isn’t it? I don’t know. I don’t know much anymore. I used to think I knew it all. I really thought I had this all figured out. But now I have forgotten the simple things, like how to sleep and how to dream soundly. I’ve forgotten how to speak and I’ve forgotten who I am. You were the glue holding me together and I regret everyday letting you have that control over me; the control to let me fall apart at any moment. I don’t know why it is embedded in the eighteen year old mind that college must change how we live and how we act. But somehow it is but it doesn’t have to be that way. Why should 187 miles keep two people apart? Our generation is missing the initiative and drive of being in a relationship. Our generation is thirsty for only convenience and pleasure. I think I have been put in the wrong generation though because I know regardless of where I end up, I will always have eyes for you. 187 miles away and I’m still dreaming of only you. How sad is that? What is sadder is that us eighteen year old kids are letting this place change who we are. You’ve let this place change who you are and what I want to do is shake you awake from this fantasy you’re living in and tell you to get control of yourself. I want to tell you to look at yourself dead in the face in the mirror and ask yourself who you have become. I bet you a million dollars that you have no idea. As summer fades to autumn I try to focus on everything good and new and my brain is doing a fine job but my heart is still looking in the rearview mirror. I’m trying to drive away from you but I keep looking back. I know I might crash my car but I do it anyways. Dead end streets aren’t new to me and neither are you. I keep wondering what will happen when we go back home; if we will fall back into old habits or pretend like last summer was merely a faint dream. But let’s face it, our hometown has your scent all over it and I can’t bare to breathe it in anymore. I don’t belong there anymore and I don’t know if I ever did. My wonder is too big for a place so small. My wonder was too big for a small heart like yours.