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I FOUND MYSELF rereading the letter Louis gave me God-knows how many times. I read it over and over last night after the Christmasparty, and now the next night over and over in my bedroom.
Call me old fashioned, but I still think it's adorable for someone to write you a love letter.
To be honest, I don't know if this note is in that fashion however. There's certain things in the writing that signifies what you would put in a "love letter" and it still makes me feel the same way one would. But, knowing Louis, I don't know if that was his intentions, really.
Every time I read it I feel this weird feeling in my gut where I just want to stand up from my bed and start dancing in joy around my room. Gifts like these have always been my favorite, only because they're sentimental and heartfelt. It's not something I thought Louis would ever do and I think that's why I adore it so much.
Whenever I first read it, I won't fib, I almost cried tears of joy. My mother was most likely worried about me since I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, reading the note with tears in the rims of my eyes. I didn't give her an explanation however, which probably troubled her even more.
It reminds me of the small note Louis wrote me on my chalkboard wall painted in my bedroom. Which is still up there and not erased, by the way.
It's simply the best letter I've ever received. He easily took the top tier. Even though Louis apologized for his poor grammar skills or misspelling, I think the whole thing was perfect. It showed the true him and that's all that matters to me.
I'm sorta thrilled for Christmas. Once you get older and you don't believe in Santa anymore, the whole thing dies down, you could say. It's still my favorite holiday out of the entire year, since I get to spend time with my family and purchase gifts for my favorite people. But, it just doesn't feel the same as it did when I was little.
I have no idea what my parents have gotten me this year. I've took a few glances at the wrapped presents under the Christmas tree labeled "To: Ryan, From: Your parents." And the shapes of the boxes didn't give any clues. I didn't ask for anything, except for money, and Mom hasn't given any clues either. Which is surprising, she usually tells me about now.
