cabin eighteen; a.i {on hold}

prolouge

it's the small things we tend to dimiss.

the ones we should pay more detail too.

the ones i, by instinct, can't help but take interest in.

the ones that drain the bigger picture away from me.
away from my thoughts.

although instead of identifying it as a bad habit such as eating with your mouth agape or biting your nail beds from anxiety.

something that can set me apart from other people.
something that makes me different.
something that i'm still getting the hang of accepting.

believe me, if someone told me two months ago that i'd actually look at the object of love, let alone me in a considerably differential way?
i'd think you've lost your mind.

but that was before it all.
before camp.
before i fell for him.
before i inhabited cabin eighteen.