dear ida,
okay, i'm going to admit something really pathetic.
there's a tiny part of me that hopes every night when i got out to my car that i'll find a little note. a little note like the one i left on his window all those months ago, but his will say i was scared and being stupid, because then we'll be able to get on with it already.
...because i'm no where near over it and it's driving me crazy.
xox, me.
�