Someday someone will walk into your life and make you realize why it didn't work out with anybody else.

I've been spending numerous hours out of every day bugging over how much i hate November this year. I never really liked November that much before, but this year i strongly prayed every night that October would be followed by December. That was a complete and utter fail. Why must the love that awaits me take such fucking time?? As fall turns into winter i quite naturally morph into a homebody, preferring solace in literature, making pretty things, having long and delicious meals by the dinner table, cuddling in front the fire-place & falling in love with your words. What is this? It's beautiful. Bittersweet. Please December, hurry up. I need to be held. And by one only.

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