Ch.5

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Dear Harry,

I miss you.

I miss you A LOT.

Missing you is an understatement; there is no word that could express how I feel right now. I can't explain it- it's like I have a constant knot in my stomach, the pain never going away. It is extra terrible in the mornings and evenings when I wake up and fall asleep. I am so used to seeing your face inches from mine, but now all I get to stare at is a white wall.

What I wake up to is nothing compared to the handsome smile I had grown so accustomed to seeing first thing in the morning. Nothing like your vibrant green eyes, soft pink lips, and mop of curls. Nothing like the boy I could talk to for hours on end, about anything and everything, never having a silent moment.

I feel horrible for sharing my pain with you, but I have always told you everything. All throughout my life, you have been there to listen to me, you were the shoulder to cry on, the one that would piece me back together. You were my rock. You still are my rock, but it is hard having something so dear to me that is not within reach. I just want you to hold my hand and tell me everything will be alright. I want you to wipe away my tears and brush the damp hair out of my face as you embrace me in your strong arms. I want you to be with me, and never leave.

Today, I needed to get out. I have been cramped in our apartment since you left, and I decided that I needed some fresh air. I took my journal and walked to the park a few blocks down. The one where we would have picnics every June. The one where we would bring my mother's old Polaroid camera and take pictures of ourselves with flowers weaved through our hair. The one where we sat on that old wooden bench and people-watched for the entire day, subtly leaning into each other as someone walked by us, and guessing what their story was.

When I got to the park, I immediately made my way to that exact bench. Since you couldn't be with me, I figured I should still attempt our little pasttime. I saw a woman walk by who looked like she was in her fifties, with long, knotted blond hair, wearing baggy, ripped jeans and a tie-dye shirt. I smiled a bit, knowing exactly what you would say.

"She's a hippy. She probably does yoga and eats tofu and does voodoo on the meat industry," you would whisper in my ear ever so casually as the woman strolled by.

I tried to entertain myself with this game, but I eventually gave up. It wasn't fun without you; not having anyone to laugh at my jokes or endear me with their humor. I felt so tiny in this huge planet, not knowing where to go or what to do without you to guide me. Although deep down I knew you were living somewhere, miles and miles away, it felt like I was alone, and you had left me completely.

Before leaving, I watched as a few kids enjoyed the spring weather. Their monkey-like bodies climbed up the branchy trees, trying to hide from one another. The tips of my mouth flicked up as I heard them giggle as they climbed and climbed, never stopping despite the dozens of scratches and bruises in the making. 

My gaze left the children and drifted to the trees themselves. I studied the tall oak, my eyes carefully tracing each nook and cranny. A wave of emotion washed over me as a jumble of thoughts came to the surface. My recollections were neither happy nor sad, although they did make me feel something.

It was our first school play in fifth grade, and I had been so excited. I wanted nothing more than to have a big role, and I had practiced the script hours on end until the day our teacher gave out the parts. To my disappointment, you and I had both been assigned to play trees. At first, I had was so heartbroken, after all that hard work and training, only to get a minor role. After a few tears, as usual, you managed to cheer me up.

"Ellaaaa," you sing-songed in my ears, "Think about how cool being a tree is going to be. We are the only ones in the play who can grow fruit!"

I giggled at your sweet intentions, cheering up from not only your convincing ways, but also from the look on your face, as if you were pleading to make me happy.

During the performance, I remember how nervous I was, although all I had to do was stand in the back of the stage. In the middle of the opening act, I turned my head just a bit to look over at you, and saw you that were looking in my direction. 

You had a huge grin on your face and the glint in your eyes seemed to be saying, "Can you believe this? We are in our first play. Together."

And it was true, everything we did, whether it be trees in our school play, or partners for a science project, we were always together. No matter what.

It is getting dark now and I am still sitting on our bench. I should probably start getting home now.

I can't wait to be together once again, Harry. I look forward to it every second of every day. 

With so much love,

Ella Wella

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