an ode to maybe

destinedfordust:

crushes:

Far Away Boy,

For now maybe these 900 miles are good for you.

If you were here, your ribs would break with how much I’d squeeze you, your lips would chap with how much I’d kiss you, your lungs would collapse when I exhausted you with dancing and pulled you by the hand all over the place to every corner of the beautiful, beautiful world.

So I guess, if we’re trying to stay positive, it’s good that you get a breather? I don’t know who I’m kidding. We should be together every damn second, starting 100 years ago.

— On My Way

2,000 miles for me :(