it's four in the morning, the end of december, i'm writing you now just to see if you're better
2004-09-26 & 6:01 a.m.

it's a season of transitions, as the sun dips earlier and my tone grows a little more curt.
in wyoming, it's snowing and a maybe-soon-to-be-editor writes to me that the first girl he ever loved lived in pennsylvania. i told him i was ready for big sweaters and fireplaces.
in truth, i'm not sure i'm ready for anything. but i'm prepared to jump with my eyes open.