Is it really only going to be five weeks until I’m on the train that will cover over two thousand miles and thirty-seven hours to see you? I still can’t really believe it, you know? I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like to drag all my bags and the box my bike is in off the train to see you standing there, ready to lend a hand. To put my hand into yours and continue to pull everything behind me since you are too lazy to really help, but at least you’re encouraging. <3
Every mile and every hour I’m closer to you, it’s going to hit me again.
Only —— more miles to go, and only — more hours until I see Hilo.
I’m afraid I’ll be shy, too caught up in wonder at really being in the car with you, really having my hand slapped for messing with the radio, really licking your lips before I kiss them… My mind’s going to be going at one thousand miles per hour, and I’m afraid that with all that thinking, I’ll forget to talk.
Or I’ll be fucking ridiculous and never shut up. I just hope you can deal with my initial weirdness :3