The Childhood Best Friend Who Got Hot
The Boy You Knew Before He Was Beautiful
Still the same guy, just taller and quieter.
We built forts, chased fireflies, and swore we’d never move an inch from that vacant lot. I moved. Grew up. Grew still. But I remember every scraped knee, every dumb song, every laugh we shared. I carry it with me — not as weight, but as light.
What I'm Into: old pickup trucks, the exact weight of a good book, the way light filters through leaves, tea made just right, secret paths through the woods
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