I think I would really like a snow cone right now.

Guess what?  I kind of really like this summer.

I kind of really like this whole doing nothing thing.  Wasting my money on snow cones and sleeping in and staying up late.  I really like going on those long walks in the park where it would have been just us if we didn't have so many people with us.  I like leaning up against someone else's car and watching the stars and talking and listening.  I like when his t-shirt brushes against my arm because we're standing that close to each other.  I like when the sun sets and lights up all of those fuzzy white things in the air.  

It just might end up being a summer to remember.

Love and kisses,

Dani

(p.s.  I learned how to do my hair like a flapper girl today)

Let's just say that I was going to preference.

And while we're pretending, let's just say that I had some money. That would be nice. But if I were going to preference and if I did have some money I would wear this dress: and these shoes:

I asked someone pretty tall in my head world so I can wear those kinds of heels. And you know what? Actually I asked someone that my imaginary self is imaginarily (I know that's not a word) in love with. And he's imaginarily in love with imaginary me too. And after a wonderful imaginary evening and a nice ride home in his imaginary car, he gave me an imaginary kiss on my imaginary doorstep. With a door that doesn't have windows. So my imaginary parents can't see us kissing. But even if they did, these imaginary parents wouldn't care.

And then guess what happened?

We went on lots of imaginary dates after that. And we were in love. And he wrote me and imaginary song on his imaginary guitar. Or piano. I can't decide. Oh what the heck, how abouts both. He can play the guitar and the piano, so he wrote me two songs. And then he sang them for me and I cried lots of imaginary tears of imaginary joy.

(all right, we all know who this imaginary person is, so why do I even bother pretending?)

post script: if you can read that bit at the end, consider yourself blessed. you're not supposed to be able to.

Love and kisses,

Dani

He doesn't know how he inspires her.

He doesn't know that he makes her want to be a better person. He doesn't know that she can hardly breathe when he talks to her or that she lays awake at night thinking of him. He doesn't know how jealous she gets of other girls he talks to. He doesn't know that she wishes on shooting stars, hoping for a chance to be with him. He doesn't know how she runs over everyword he says, fixing them in her memory. He doesn't know how she feels everytime she sees his face, hears his voice, or feels him close to her.

He might never know.

Love and Kisses,

Dani