letters to fay // z.m.

02

dear fay,

this is the second letter i've written and the pain isn't lessening. i need you in my arms.

i keep remembering that time, one week after we met in the park. i was walking down the street late in the evening, and you came speeding by on your penny board.

"hey! remember me?" you said, skidding to a halt against the sidewalk and picking up your board.

how could i not remember you, fay? how could i ever forget?

"yeah," i'd replied nervously. you made me nervous, fay. you still do.

"wanna come to a bonfire? you don't look too busy, come on, it'll be fun!" you ran your fingers through your perfect blonde hair as you leaned against a truck parked on the side of the street.

it took me a while to reply. i'm sorry i was so awkward, fay. after looking a while at the setting sun, i finally replied, "i suppose i could go."

the rest of the night was like an arctic monkeys song. you cracked open my shell that night. i laughed and told stories and listened to all of the interesting things all of your interesting friends had to say--though no story was as interesting as yours.

as we sat around the flaming bonfire on the beach, you told us a story of your grandmother josie and how she'd tell you tales of adventure, and love, and freedom. at the end of your story, you told us that you knew someday you'd be living like that.

i remember thinking, she's undoubtably on her way..

are you there yet, fay? are you on that adventure of yours? is that where you went?

-z