thirteen november
eight : fifty-nine p.m.

i'm tired of being here. i want it to be christmas break. i want fireplaces and apple cider and i want to go sit in the quiet of the living room with the neighborhood lights blinking all around me.

and i want to think that it's the most beautiful thing i've ever seen, and i want to stop on the side of the highway and take pictures.

but it's only (almost) thanksgiving break and i'll just have to settle with everyone leaving and failure and feeling uncomfortable sitting in the back seat in a coat.