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