Dear Stanley [Watty's 2019. Completed]

It's been good

Saturday, April 13th

Dear Stanley,

I know I haven't written for some time, so I'm sorry for that.

It's been great - these last few days. I've been getting even closer with Dad.

I never expected to befriend him. But ever since that first conversation we had, when I stumbled upon him (literally) sleeping on the front step, we always talk to each other whenever we have the chance.

I've never really talked to Dad before - got to know him and all that. As I said, when you were around, Dad and Mom focused on you the most.

But now Dad and me exchange secret smiles in the hallway. When he comes home, late from work, I sometimes sneak out and sit in the kitchen and we talk if Mom isn't there.

We talk about all sorts of things. At first, it was awkward. Like when you are meeting up with someone after a long time.

We talk about you, we talk about life, we talk about sadness. We talk about the future, we talk about the past, we talk about the present. We talk about random topics that come on our mind, and we often tease each other.

He's been happier lately. It almost seems as if there is a balloon tied to him, lifting him off the ground.

I think it's because of our conversations. I know that after you disappeared, bottling up the emotions was leading to a slow and internal demise. It must've been the same with Dad too. We both had no one to talk to, but then we discovered each other - even though we've been living together the entire time.

Mom still fights with him though. He's giving up on fighting with her and instead stays quiet while she screams to her hearts content. Mom and me still ignore each other. She still hasn't apologized for the now-almost-invisible bruise she gave to me.

One time, me and Dad were talking about the time you almost set our house on fire. I remember the moment vividly. Mom claimed that she was tired of cooking after waitressing all day, so you offered to cook dinner for us. Mom fell asleep on the couch in the living room while I was doing homework at the kitchen table. Dad was in his office, working.

Then the fire alarm went off. We all rushed into the kitchen and black plumes of smoke were emerging from the oven. We found out you threw frozen pizza in it with the cardboard on the bottom still in it. And on top of that you left the kitchen to go play video games. Mom yelled at you with rage through her sleepy state, while Dad massaged his temples, trying to avoid a headache from the chaos. I remember trying not to burst out in laughter.

By the time me and Dad finished going over the memory, we were crying from laughing too hard. We wiped the tears from our eyes, and even though we were happy then, I know both our hearts were whispering the same thing.

I wish we could go back to that.

"He was always reckless and crazy stupid, wasn't he? But that was also the reason why everyone loved him." Dad said once.

For some reason, that widened the chasm you left in my heart. It made me miss you even more. But a small doubt slithered into my mind...

He wasn't perfect though.

I shook that thought away, feeling flustered and slightly angry at myself for thinking that. For some reason, I've been getting these nagging little thoughts ever since that first bad memory I had with you. I have to keep reminding myself that it was one memory, and one memory only. Not even that harmful.

It still doesn't stop the thoughts from coming.

Anyway, besides Dad, me and Breeze have also begun getting closer. I feel like I've known her my entire life and not just a few weeks.

I'm convinced that the only reason I go to school is for her. I've officially become the worst student ever. This week alone, I failed a math test, an english quiz, a biology pop quiz, and a world assignment. It doesn't faze me a bit though, Stanley.

We talk about the future sometimes. Sometimes we sit together really close until the close proximity drives me crazy. I just think she's perfect- from her appearance to her personality.

One time, Breeze was feeling especially agitated. She was in one of her moods, where she's thinking about something and the distant look crosses her face. I knew I couldn't do anything to snap her out of it, so I just decided to remain quiet and watch her.

She was hyper, walking along the perimeter of the secret room she painted. I was standing in the center, observing her. Her brow was furrowed and she seemed stressed. Occasionally she'd flinch, as if the memory was happening right in front of her.

I yearned to save her when these things happened, but there was absolutely nothing I could do until she opened up to me and told me what was happening.

I still haven't figured out what the bad thing that happened to her in her past was though. Despite my adoration for her blooming everyday, it doesn't change the fact that there is a little broken piece in her, something that can't be fixed or forgotten.

Breeze and me go to her secret spot in the Cupcake Crisis almost every day after school now. I think I've been there around 6 times since the last time I wrote about it. Susan and me are even becoming acquaintances.

It feels weird, being paid attention to by people other than you.

But even with all this going on - my improving relationship with Dad, my exciting friendship with Breeze, my annoying negative thoughts on you..

I still miss you. That will always be a constant. I miss you more every day.