Dear M.

On another note. I miss you. The you that I address in my writings. I should finish writing that letter & just drop it in your mailbox. That postcard you sent me from Saigon made me nostalgic.

How did I manage to fill an entire journal with nothing but thoughts of you? I can't remember what it feels like anymore.

Also, I still don't think I'll ever fall in love. I lack the propensity for it (as I've said to you, a thousand times over) and suitors (lol).