(no subject)
It was your birthday yesterday. I woke up, checked the time on my phone and it said "December 3" -- instantly I knew what it was. I couldn't help but wonder if it's snowing in London. It took me a second but I finally figured it out that you're 23. I wonder what happened to the 18 year old boy that fell in love with me. That seems so long ago, us being 18 and 16. I came undone, so quickly with you; it's not a shock that I still remember your birthday and that all day yesterday a little piece of my heart wanted to be in England with you. It took a few years to realize that you weren't my destiny; you were just a little glimpse of perfection in a sixteen year old girls eyes. I don't think I'll ever forget your birthday; or spend a day wishing and wondering how London is; some nights I even dream about you... but first loves are never as perfect as second loves. I still hope you're happy. From the bottom of my heart. I hope you find a British girl who makes you fall madly, irrevocably in love, and that you marry her.