Dear You,

April || Leo

September 12th, 2015

Dear April,

     Happy birthday. How's life treating you? I hope you're well, as we haven't spoken for five years. I can't say that I've thought of you all of the time everyday since you've left, but I can say that I miss you enough to write a letter like this four different times and have it sent to your apartment only to have it sent back to me. I guess this'll be the fifth, yeah?

     Remember when we would walk down to the beach at midnight and hold hands whilst we walked along the shore? You always made me walk closest to the water because they always made your toes cold. Then you would jump on my back and your blonde hair would tickle my back. I swear, I can still feel your head resting in the crook of my neck.

     Then it was sophomore year and you made me to go that All Time Low concert with you. You really did like that band so how could I deny you? How could I ever say no to you? Neither of us had our voices after that and you fell asleep on the way home. What was supposed to be a one hour drive home became four because of all the traffic and you told me to wake you up once we got back into town. I've never seen someone fall asleep with a great big grin on their face until I saw you drift into a deep slumber.

     Junior year, and you were cramming so hard for your ACT. I knew you'd do fine because you were an honors student with straight A's and a great list of volunteer work. You are a prodigy, anyone that knew you wouldn't be able to tell that you were fluent in four languages and played six instruments. It's a little mental just thinking about it, you know? 'Cause you're this girl that loves to have fun and everyone knows you but they don't know that you have the ability to score a 36 on the ACT. On the bright side, they know now, and you could kick their asses in a debate.

     And senior year came around the corner so quickly. Not only did that mean goodbyes, but that meant that I lose the best thing that's ever happened to me (you). You gave me this little fluorescent green sticky note back in freshman year that said, You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm sorry that I've never said the same back to you. I didn't realize that I'd never get a chance to say it once you left.

     When you said your valedictorian speech, I felt so proud of you. It was like I couldn't have loved you more than I did in that exact moment when you spoke passionately about everyone. It was also in that moment that I realized that once you left for Harvard, I could never have you in my arms ever again. Why would a gifted girl going to a prestigious school want to be with me? You always told me "I love you, that's why" when I'd ask you that, but those reassuring words never would have the same lasting effect.

     Though, perhaps I could use those words right now.

     The day you left for Massachusetts was the day after we settled on being just friends. Remember? I told you that I didn't wanna get in the ways of your studies while you insisted that I was nothing close to a bother. It was filled with tears but we got to spend your last moments at home together. It's amazing how you never came home for holidays or spring breaks because I always made time to come back and visit my family. I guess it wouldn't make sense 'cause your parents never really sent much love your way. That is, aside from paying your college tuition in full.

     You gave me your address but every single time I've written a heartfelt happy birthday message to you, there was always a RETURN TO SENDER note on the envelope written in cursive with permanent marker that would seep through the thin paper. There's no use texting your phone when I know damn well that you've gotten a new one.

     But this is supposed to be a happy birthday message. Except, I suppose I don't have the motivation to write my heart out this year.

     Congrats on surviving another year, April.

     Love you,

         Leo.

P.S. - I made it into Yale.

P.S.S. - I see you've learned cursive.