Dear Meg,

ten

[ October 31 2015 ]

Dear Meg,

Today's Halloween.

I hate Halloween.

You love it.

You like to dress up and party.

Remember when you told me that, Meg?

We were both outside of Scott Patterson's house during one of his legendary halloween parties, freshman year, the first time we met.

Remember?

That night, 3 years ago, I stepped outside to get some air. I sat myself down on the bench outside. I still remember when you walked out the door and approached the bench. You seemed breath taking even from the first time I saw you. You sat yourself down at the other end of the bench and let out a sigh. When you were about to walk down the steps in front of Scott's house to your car, you clumsily tripped on your own feet, but I caught you before you could fall down.

People say that on Halloween night, ghosts can roam around free, like on that one episode of American Horror Story. When Violet and Tate went on a date at the beach. And when the students that Tate killed visited him and demanded an explanation.

I wish it was really like that.

I wish you were given any chance to interact with the dead, even for one last time.

To be able to say the things that you didn't get the chance to say, to say goodbye.

But, goodbyes are overrated now, aren't they, Meg?

People don't say goodbye anymore. They just disappear silently. They drift away quietly into the distance. They just leave you hanging there with all of these questions left on your mind.

Nobody ever says goodbye anymore. People just like to leave you with no warning.

Don't they, Meg?

Love, Dylan