Paperweight.

Dear John,

How are things working out for you? I miss you a lot. I hope you’re fine and I hope you’re happy. I haven’t heard from you in a big while, your letters keep coming rarely and more rarely. I bet you’ve been everywhere by now. How is Paris? Venezuela? Or maybe New York? Do you still play that beautiful guitar of yours? I want you to play me a song, when I see you again. Can you do that for me? I’m kind of scared for you, though. The whole thing with the military doesn’t sound safe to me. I do want to see you, so you take care of yourself, alright? It’s been years since I’ve actually wrote a letter on an actual paper, but you know, it’s about goddamn time. I don’t know your address, because you don’t have one, but I’ll just throw that in a bottle and let it come to you. Sounds as hopeless as it is, eh? Truth is, I’ve been thinking about you these days. What are you thinking about? What are you dreaming of? I miss the great summer we had…and now the new one is coming just to wake those memories up. I hope they all make you smile for a really long time. I still pull my thump to the full moon, just like you showed me. The moon is always as big as my thumb…fascinating! We might not see it at the same time, but I know we both do see it…the moon, I mean. It’s the same as every night, right? This is something really special, I think. Insignificant to others, but I’d go to the beach every night, just to see it and smile! How’s your dad? His hobby? How much coins did he gather already? I don’t really know what to ask you, I just thought I’d say that I really miss you and that I’m happy to know you.

P.S: I love you.

// Savannah.

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