dear mexico,

you're my neighbor, but you're still so far away from anything i have here (besides a shittier version of the food you would serve). i miss your face. your colorful features. your swanky radiostation voice. your concrete abs. your dusty hair. i miss the way you would make me feel. uncomfortable. excited. playful. because i wanted so badly for you to like me back. i wonder how you've been doing without me.

i know you've gotten into some drugs recently and i'm worried. i hear your failing tests. i hear people think you're dangerous and you've lost direction. but i know you can get back on your feet. i hope you can. i'd like to explore more with you. (you can share more of your pre-columbian secrets with me.) don't worry about what everyone thinks you should be doing right now. take care of yourself.

miss you dearly,

charity