You book a plane ticket, rusty like you don't quite remember how, and then try to find in the back of your spine the satisfaction for which you normally itch. September entices with a number of adventures and you shrug indifferently, unable to believe them until they are there. I vow not to pass them by for that reason alone.
Do you remember how your eyes alone made me be a little better? How your voice reminded me there was something worth trying for? I forget to expect that sometimes. But I know adventure when it comes, know the soar in my gut on the precipice, there's a ticket in my inbox and a new season on the horizon, there's a breath in my lungs the year has not taken from me, if you look me in the eyes I swear I will look right back and oh, you won't know what hit you.
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