Sincerely, Alyson ✔️

I | The Colour Left With You

Friday 21st of February

Dear Emmanuel Harrington III,

Today was the same as yesterday, and yesterday was the same as the day before.

My days are simple and dull, to say the least.

Everything is the same; it's like a routine, and it's one that I can't seem to get out of. It's almost like I've become a robot. I get up in the morning and get ready for school, taking the dreaded walk towards my newfound hell.

The day is the same as usual for me; packed with classes that teach subjects I'll probably never use. Formulas I won't remember and essays about books that feel empty without you to talk about them with. You always had something clever to say, even about the most boring topics imaginable. 

Now I just stare at the page and wonder what you would've written instead and if you liked the book.

After school, I rush home like always, keeping my head down. I don't want to run into anyone, not the teachers who look at me with pity, and not the friends who've stopped checking in. I know they don't know what to say anymore, I don't blame them. Truthfully, I don't either.

I throw open the front door and make a beeline for my room. I toss my bag to the floor and collapse onto my bed. Homework can wait. Everything feels like it can wait lately. Nothing feels urgent anymore, not without you here.

My mom calls for me from downstairs. She always does. I never answer. Her voice used to be comforting, now it's just noise. She doesn't understand, I mean how could she? I know she's trying, but trying isn't enough when the hole in your chest feels bottomless.

My days have been far more boring than they once were.

Once upon a time, my life was full of adventure but you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?

Like that time we skipped class and rode the train two towns over just to find that old bookstore you'd been dying to show me. We got caught, remember? But you didn't care. You smiled the whole way home like the risk was worth it. Maybe it was. Maybe the best things are the ones that come with consequences.

Do you remember the way you used to drag me out on rainy days because you said puddles were meant to be jumped in and not avoided. I haven't jumped in one since you left. It just feels wrong without you. I can wait until you return to do all these things again.

Honestly, music sounds different now too. I put on your favorite songs, but they echo in all the wrong places. They're all too quiet and too hollow like there's just something missing. You used to hum along, badly, I might add, but I loved it anyway. I even miss those annoying habits too.

The world used to be full of colour with you in it; loud, messy, and alive. Now, I see everything in shades of grey. 

I keep thinking I'll turn a corner and see you again, that you'll be sitting on the swing outside school or waiting by my locker with that stupid smirk of yours.

But you never are.

I cannot wait for you to come back to me.

I miss you terribly so.

I'll be waiting for you, always.

Sincerely,

Alyson Summers.