miles to go before i sleep

dear miles,

it's been a while, huh? three years, actually; i know you always liked to be exact. i know that may not seem like a lot of time for some people, but for me it has been eons.

maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you still called me every night. for the first month you were gone, you called each evening without fail. now i'm lucky to get a text from you on my birthday.

ouch, right?

when you moved, you made me a promise. you told me we'd still be best friends, and i believed you. i had no doubts. none. and maybe that's what hurts most of all: the fact that i had so much faith in you, but it all disintegrated by the end of the month.

i'm not trying to guilt trip you, miles. i just want you to come home. to talk to me again. to let me know you still care.

that is, if you still do. i'm not sure where you stand at this point, wheelchair boy (shut up, i know you're laughing and i didn't intend that pun).

so show me. show me you care, show me you still want to be my friend. show me you miss me as much as i miss you. write me back.

i dare you.

sincerely,

knee brace girl

p.s. yes, of course i still have the knee brace. i'm a dancer, what did you expect? now stop reading and go write me a letter.