I’ve been thinking about this a lot, the way you treat me, the way you look at me… I’m still not sure what I think of it. I think maybe I hate you, but then you look into my eyes and I know that’s not true…But what is true? You know, the truth is a funny thing… I wish I knew it. I thought I did, once. That was when we were friends, when we didn’t have a care in the world. I wish that was still how it is now. I wish we were still young like that. Do you remember those times? Picking wild flowers in the hills behind the house, next to the creek that was ice cold? Having picnics under the willow tree next to the garden? Hiding my mom’s good china in the sandbox and blaming it on the dog? I hope you do. I hope you remember us- I hope you remember me. Will you promise me- promise us something? When you grow up and leave this small town, when you meet the perfect girl, when you have your own kids who pick wild flowers and have picnics, remember your childhood. Remember the girl who lived next door, the one with the uneven blond pigtails, the one who wore dresses while making mud pies with you. Remember that life wasn’t always so confusing and crazy, that there are still simple pleasures in life, and it’s never too late… But most of all, remember that I- I love you. I hope you read this and know who it’s from because… I won’t sign it. If you don’t know exactly who it’s from, this was pointless. Have a good life, I probably won’t see you again. Goodbye.
