If I had slept at all last night, I'm sure I would have dreamt about pizza. Melted cheesy top like the firey red-gold glow of the burning Fall leaves on an old beautiful tree that I've imagined myself simple and beautiful marrying you in front of while our close friends and family looked on sitting in the grass like perfect picnics on hilltops overlooking the lake near which I first, and then always, wanted you to kiss me.