(I wrote something else in response, but decided against posting it. Instead, on January 3rd, 2017, I will give you a password and you can read it. Why that day? No reason really, I guess because I turn 18 that year? Maybe that’s why? I’m not really sure.)
A picture.
Hung in my room, right above my theatre award, the lanyard from my summer job, my two maps of Disneyland & California Adventure, and my Thomas Kinkade calendar. The words are falling off and I’ve debated taking it down since June. I haven’t yet.
You used to call me sunshine, not sure if you still do. We used to sit by the box office of the theatre and eat lunch. I used to stand in the wings, watching you perform onstage. We used to do a lot, now we do nothing.
I tried to give you all the sunshine you needed in order to be happy, but in the process I gave you all of my sunshine too. My heart and soul went into you and you never knew why (at least I don’t think you did…well I guess you’ll find out in January). But I needed some of my sunshine back because my own happiness was fading, and so I took it. And I sort of recovered, I replenished my sunshine supply over the course of summer vacation. I didn’t see you, I might’ve texted you once or twice (but nothing substantial), and I moved on. I got a boyfriend, lost a boyfriend. I saw a show and afterwards, said 19 words to someone I knew (but he didn’t know me), and those 19 words kickstarted the closest friendship I have right now.
It also took 19 words to drift away from you. They were powerful words, but 19 nonetheless. You’re wonderful, and you’ll always have a place in my heart, but I must be going.
This will be my last post directly to you because there are other post-worthy things and people in my life right now. They are pretty marvelous and I could write countless posts about them. (I actually might so I probably need to create a cutoff point. Say 7 posts each maybe?)
And with that I bid you adieu, Small Fry, until someday.