Writing~Reading

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Today is going to be special.

Today is going to be different.

Hi, my name is unimportant right now, but I need to tell you something.  I want you to carefully read the next words and take everything to heart.

I'm going to be happy soon, honestly happy.  Want to know why?  Because I remembered to write, I finally brought myself to write again.

I met you last year, I never thought of how much you would change my life.  You made life seem so vivid.  But it's hard focusing on the colors if you're living a lie.

I lied.
I lied to you, the one I trust most.

I didn't want to seem clingy, but you made me feel so happy.
I didn't want to seem so sad,  I wanted you to see my smile.

Even if it was pained.

I wanted to have the sparkle you had in your eyes every time you looked at me, but that was too much to ask.

So I wrote.

I wrote how you made me feel.
I wrote the lie I told.

And you read it.

Why did you cry? Why did you lose that precious sparkle?

You never cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The pubescent boy cradled his best friend's petite frame in his sore arms. Aching from holding her so long, yet no force could ever pry her out of them. He loved her. He loved everything about her, to the way she softly smelled like roses and vanilla, to the way she smiled even when she was crying and sad just to make others feel better.

He found the letter earlier that day, he recognized her handwriting by the way the letters were printed without the pencil ever leaving the paper and how there were a mix of 'and' and '&.'

He immediately knew he had to find her, scouring everywhere to find the girl he loved.

He was so scared at that moment.

He saw her on the floor next to her favorite flower bed, in a secluded park. It was her favorite place. The sunsets and nights were amazing here, the stars always seemed to shine brighter.

Next to her was a letter. On it read,

"All my lies,

'I'm fine.'
'I'm happy.'
'I'm so cute.'
'No, I did not eat that."

He would have chuckled at the last one if this situation was any different, yet he continued,

"That's ok.'
'I have tons of friends.'

What I needed to tell you,

'I need to cry right now, but no tears are coming.'
'I'm not happy.'
'I need someone to hold me while I feel like this."

Nothing could prepare him for what he read next.

"I love you."

In any other situation, he would have cheered and kissed her.

But he couldn't, not now at least, her pink, accentuated lips were too cold.

All he could do was cry until voice was hoarse, his arms numb, eyes dry, cry until there was nothing left.

He stayed there for what seemed like an eternity, holding her body close to him, this would be the last time he would ever get to do that, softly breathing in her sickly sweet scent.

But what could he do now?
The girl who he loved was dead, before he could tell her.
Before she could tell him.

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