The frost glistens along the state line, and you're no where to be found.

Days out aren't any fun alone.

So I just sit here, write nonsense on a junky laptop that's overcrowded with files of

anarchy.

The roses are growing, bigger and redder, and my

mind goes to you, like always.

Darling, the day you walked in, you took away my common sense.

Being in love is pure chaos and a hell of a lot of trouble.

It's waking up to scribbles drawn with steam on the mirrors and silly notes by the bed.

it is drinking coffee together looking like shit and being sore from the night before while we both read our novels and papers.

It is when your laugh is too loud for me to understand what's so funny, and for when I fall asleep everywhere but always wake up in bed.

it's when we fight awfully, swearing and hitting at each other, but we both end up making out in the back of your car.

It is all of our mapped out plans that will never come true, and the bleakness of knowing that forever might not hold me and you.

But most of all, it's knowing that for maybe only a little while, I found it.