torn apart

six;

mills,

eight months.

eight goddamn months.

its almost halloween.

your favorite holiday.

and i always loved your reasoning for it.

"you can be whoever you want to be for a single night,

and no one can tell you no."

i loved those sort of things about you.

no, i still love them.

its just that i don't get to experience them anymore.

i need you.

i love you so goddamn much, milly.

i need to see you.

i need you.

forever yours,

adam