Summer had passed again.
Many summers had passed again.
The little fingers on your hand would've lost count the chances I've practiced to put a circle on the second farthest to your left.
I've made it alive. To be brave and be back after those memories of summer that had haunted me.
But I guess, the story has already ended years ago before I can even write the middle and the sequel. The chapters you've had now are owned by somebody else.
But these papers of my reminiscing moments would be kept. Until the next summer in the next life I would read it again.
I love you, Joey. Sorry for being late.
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