@copymatt

The weekend.

Long, wet, cold, steep, lonely, quiet, dark miles in the middle of nowhere.

Thermos caps of mummy blood with thick strips of jerky and cookies that make you dumb for hours.

Sleepy rides home listening to playlists by that one kid everyone in the car knows you have a crush on.

Hot, stingy showers with cans of Old German.

Football naps and red beers.

Dinners in dark restaurants full of meat and scotch.

Nights spent right on that little tiny line where you’re pretty sure you’ll remember most of this, but not enough.

I’m glad you guys are coming.