Muse,
I was so proud to hear about your first acceptance letter. And your second and your third. The best part is, you haven't even heard back from everyone yet. There could be a fourth and a fifth and a sixth. That would give you six places to go. Six places to choose from, but only one place to leave. Only one set of people to leave behind, and only you get to decide if you're going to miss us or not.
I'm going to miss you, as I'm sure you know. But to be completely honest, it's not going to be as bad as it could have been. You're still leaving, but you have no idea how nice it is to have certainty and answers where ambiguity used to reside. I've been accused of being "best friends with the captain" numerous times, but I can actually say it's really a thing now. You have no idea how proud I am just to be your friend, and I'm not sure you'll ever understand it.
But you might. I never realized how much I underestimated your ability to understand me. You gave me space when I didn't know I needed it, but you came around when I needed you to. Small doses of support that led to digging myself out of holes I swear I would've rather died in... I needed that more than you know, because I very well may have died in the middle of one of those messes. There are a lot of things I never wanted to deal with and while reality sinking in wasn't 100% due to you, you definitely helped.
I hope you find it worth your while to keep in touch, because if it were up to me, I would never let this go. Funny thing is, even after pondering it for so long, I still can't label or explain it. I guess that's my conclusion. It's something completely unmatched by anything else I'll ever have, and I wouldn't want to let it go. But it's really only 50% up to me, you know. I don't expect too much of you, but hold up your end of the conversation and I'll try my best to hold up mine.
I'm going to miss you so much, muse. I'm hugging you before you leave, you know. I don't care if you don't want it. I'm also signing your yearbook. You didn't let me last year, but I'll come prepared this time around. Just don't forget to go to the talent show; I have one last thing to say to you.
Love,
Carrillo.
YOU ARE READING
muse
Non-FictionPre-love and post-trauma, a collection of letters dedicated to the one and only captain of this sheet metal ship, K.G. Non Fiction: #111 Short Story: #283 © Papyruspoet 2014.