I put too much value in objects, because people always leave. When you left me, I still had all your things. Hundreds of drawings you had given over the past two years when we were bored in class. A sweatshirt you got me for my thirteenth birthday party. A hat you had lent me. The shirt that I got for you but couldn't give to you because it was too late for our friendship. The photographs of us laughing and hanging out. The matching cases we got for our phones. The bracelets you gave to me. The 'clothes' we made in art club that we got first place for. The album you got me for an artist I loved, but you hated.
Seeing you so happy makes me sad sometimes.
