"I wish we were 12 again, just eating popsicles while sitting on the swings while thandi thandi hawaa blows on our muh :shiftyy:. There's nothing :shiftyy: about what I just said but the :shiftyy: muh also applies for when hawaa is blowing in your muh so zohr se ke you can't see:-B. Hazhaz."\
For whatever reason, today I just felt like writing to you. It is of course that bit that says I miss you, that you're on my mind, but then again, when aren't you? Granted, we've grown out (grown "up" seems kinda off); grown OUT that somethingsomethings that we both know we've grown out, but I doubt we could ever outgrow each other, or even, especially our memories of the other, and yes especially the imprint of our souls upon each others'.
"It reminds me of how I told you I would see ure muh as I would shut the door of my microwave oven or on the LuckyCharms ka cereal dabba. Hehe, so many goot (yet disturbing) memories."
And that would be true for any relationship, but somehow extra especially for you, for us, for ours. Perhaps we'd rather negate the impact because it kinda says that the past that ties us together somehow matters, when we'd rather say it doesn't - but we still learn from it, and from what it let us share. And maybe that's why I am here writing to you. Though it's been awhile, there are those moments when I have this instictive urge to pick up the phone and share 'it'; something anything. Then there are those constant things that continuously remind me of you - all those inside jokes and those certain situations that only you could understand and appreciate, for what its worth appreciating.
"I not want to sound dramatic plz."
And the funny thing is, although I miss you, I..don't. And I don't have to write all thise because I know you understand it. That's just it though. Having it said makes it said. I miss our punjaban adventures, but its just that, I know they couldnt be the same, not now. I miss that family, and all that, you know. I wonder what happened to their trock. I dont' know why I have the need to write to you, but meh. I guess it was the mota toy penguin I compulsively wished to stuff in the mailbox, except that it was fatter than the mailbox. Reminds me of those penguin outfits we googled at the same time (ok I am having an akele hazhaz moment here, time to say bye.)
ps. Dont forget the Jinny Joes.
