To my dearest lumberjack,


The worst part of this coming to an end isn't the fact that I can't call you mine anymore. It's the things like no more "hey pretty girl" texts or not being able to listen to Kip Moore without tearing up. I won't be able to laugh at sloth jokes anymore because that was "our thing". It'll be hard for me to figure out the rest of my life without you in it, cheesey as it sounds, but we had it all planned out. I'll miss those honey eyes of yours and the way your kiss gave me a thousand butterflies everytime. So i guess before it all ends I should take advantage of every moment I have.

One kiss closer to the next but always one closer to the last...