One night before summer ends and rain descends from mountains and treetops like an army of gods, someone will leave the door open but switch off all the lights; someone else will let light flood the room but close the door with a single definitive click. We are all so alike, we often think, each and every one of us, in our softness and our laughter and that delicate way we balance each other out. Deep down, we always believe, deep down. But there is disparity, still, spreading us across plains of days like a hundred travelers reading a thousand different maps—the truth is that there are people who have too many dreams and not enough plans, and people who have too many plans and not enough dreams. I don't know which one I am and which one you are, not yet. I hope we are the same. I hope we both know the right time to: jump, wait, dream, plan, fight, forget, leave, stay. I hope we are the same. I hope I feel loved every time you do. I hope we are the same. It would make all the difference in the world.