Falling For a Flower

Dear Morgan,

I wrote you a million letters in the back of my mind. They all ended up crumbled into balls, stuck at the bottom of a trash filled with gum. I wrote you a letter filled with all the goop piled up at the bottom of my heart. I wrote you a million letters in the back of my mind, a few on lined paper that I never gained the bravery to give you. I wanted to tell you that you stopped the pain. You stopped the fear—stopped thoughts from racing years into the future staying here in the present. I could do anything when I thought of you. I could breathe. I could breathe without counting my breaths—I could walk without thinking “right foot left foot.” I could smile with my eyes, I could speak to the world without the fear that it wouldn’t listen. I could laugh with my spirit, I could walk with my pride. I could feel my own existence, I could be myself. I could be silent knowing you could still hear me. I could feel invisible and you’d never look through me. You were the only one that never looked through me. Even when I was looking through me. I’d think of you when I was afraid. I ‘d think of you when I was happy—I could be happy. I could be someone I wanted to be, because when I looked at you, I knew you’d always see me for whoever I was. I could fall, scrape a knee, bust a lip, lose a tooth, lose a screw or my mind, and you still stare wide eyed. You hit every sense, shocking every nerve with your every move; bringing me back to life when I didn’t know I was disappearing.

Dear Morgan, I wrote you a million letters. I hope this one finds you. 

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