Three.

(warning. cheese ahead. read at your own risk.)

Once upon a time, I got a phone call from someone I kind of knew from school. We weren't really close friends--we had never talked to each other in person, and had only just recently started to chat on YM.

"You live on (insert name of street here), right? What color was your gate?"

"White...Why?"

"I'm outside."

That night, we sat on the grass in front of my house, and told each other stories like there was no tomorrow. The next few weeks after that were similar to the first time he came over.

We would tell each other story after story, joke after joke, secret after secret. Some nights, we spoke of frustrations and fears, while on other nights, we spoke of dreams and hopes. One night, we stared at a neighbor's house and tried to make shapes out of the plants growing by the wall.

Each night, I wished that the day wouldn't have to come to an end. Thankfully, there was always a tomorrow.

Three years later, here we are...still not running out of stories to tell.

Honestly speaking, I don't think we're ever going to run out of stories to tell. Since I'm a really forgetful person, he can just repeat his stories every now and then. Besides, he's nice enough to listen to my stories--even if I've already told them to him before. That is a fact. :P

So, I'm a billion and seven percent sure--there will be enough stories for tomorrow. And the tomorrows after tomorrow's tomorrows. Yay! :)