It's something when you realize what you are going to be doing for the rest of your life is the only thing that has ever really made any sense to you and the signs were there from day 1.

I really wish my parents had lived in a better school district.

I can't sleep

Once,

I wrote you a lonely love song,

but you weren't mine,

so I sang it to the stars.

And now, writing of you goes unfinished.

My mind is crowded

with future thoughts of

us walking along the Seine or

us standing in the streets of Florence,

of a trip to D.C., where our first,

the perfect mixture of

me and

you,

will be animated.

And perhaps then,

I will finally wrap us in scarves and slide across ice.