AmySebastian.
Time.
Ugly-cry movies.
The warm fall breeze rustles the colorful leaves of the trees. It’s ironic how something that’s actually decaying, like the leaves, can be so beautiful. Running my hand along the armrest at the side of the swing, I smile, knowing it had to be Landon who brought this with him to college. Everyone back home has some sort of a porch swing. I spent many hours in my life sitting in one, watching the sunset over our back field or telling my mom about my day at school. There’s a nostalgic quality to them. The gentle, repetitive movements make me feel safe.
I skipped all of my classes today. Landon went to his, and that’s okay, too. Everyone deals with hard situations differently.
“Look what I brought ya.” Landon’s cheerful voice pulls me from my thoughts.
