axel

::twenty nine::

Point of View: noah 

[I got a lot to say to you

Yeah, I got a lot to say

I noticed your eyes are always glued to me

Keeping them here

And it makes no sense at all] {crushcrushcrush; Paramore} 

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Dear Old Me,

I'm going to a ball tonight. Can you believe that? I'm going to go to a party, and I might actually dance and be happy for a moment.  I might actually smile and laugh like we used to, back before mom died.

I know you never thought this was possible. I know that you never thought happiness was ever even in the cards. Well, I guess I'm proving you wrong.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not fixed or perfect. I don't know that I ever will be. But I'm okay now. I'm not forgetting or moving on, to be sure. But I'm learning how to let life around me happen anyway and to be thankful for the good moments that come my way.

Maybe this way I can actually be happy every once in a while. Wouldn't that be neat?

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I roll out of bed the next morning, my feet hitting the carpet with a smack. I have only a few hours to decide what to wear to this thing tonight. North told me that jeans would be perfectly fine, but I really don't want to show up to a Ball in jeans. That just seems wrong.

The bad thing is, I don't wear dresses very often. I have no need to. So I have nothing. And I really don't want to spend my money on a dress I'm probably only going to wear once.

I sigh as I realize my only actual option.

My mom's stuff.

There's a storage room that we stuck a lot of her things after she died because my dad didn't want to get rid of them. I know the code and everything to get in because I helped him take everything  over there.

I really don't want to go through all that stuff today, I know it'll uproot and stir up bad memories.

But I don't have any other options.

I get dressed and grab a coat before walking downstairs. I leave a note for Amy and take off. The storage place is only a few blocks from here, so it won't take me that long to get there. I jog over there, trying to warm myself up.

If I find something, then I'll go back to the house and get a shower and then later on I'll get ready. I might ask Amy to help me with my makeup.

My heart hurts as I think that, and I realize that once upon a time, that would have been my mom helping me with my makeup instead of my group home mom.

I shove that thought away as I reach the gates of the place and slip in. I walk down the rows until I get to ours, and open the door. It's musty and dark in here, and when I flip on a light all the spiders go running away out of sight.

I shiver and make my way over to the boxes, looking at wha'ts written on them. Eventually I find one that is marked, "Dressed and shoes" and I drag it over to the side and open it. Most of the dresses are older, and I would never wear them.