Dear you,

Two years and eight weeks have gone by since you kissed me in your 1996 Ford minivan for the last time, and I still think of nothing but your eyes.

The color of slate - grayish blue - with a navy ring around them. And although the color was cold, they were made of honey. Warm and liquid. Fluid. I have never met anybody who could express themselves through their eyes alone. They would soften, swell, when you looked at something you cared about. Your grandmother, your dog. Even me, sometimes, which made me feel like my skin was on fire.

You could touch me without touching me. Make me feel everything with just one look. Just sitting next to you would make me feel like I could explode at any second - like my bones couldn’t handle how much you shook me. You shook me to my core, to the bottom of my bellybutton and even the pads of my feet. 

A song played in your car when you drove me home after the first time you took me out. A song I’ve heard 100 times before, but never like this. It surrounded us - danced around us. It felt almost physical, like I could reach out and touch it. We were both silent in that moment, you in a blue button down and me in a white cotton dress. The air was electric between us, and there was no oxygen in the car. Even with all the windows down and the warm summer air kissing our skin, there was no oxygen. I never could seem to catch my breath around you.

You were the first person to hold me, but I never told you that. You couldn’t have known that, unless you felt the way my skin welcomed yours. People had tried to hold me before but it never felt quite close enough. It never felt eager enough, strong enough. You held me like I could have broken at any moment - like you were keeping the pieces of me together in your calloused hands. Your thumb traced my surface, as if it could glue together the cracks that covered me. You held me, really held me, and I should have told you that.

I wish I had told you that.

Love, me

1) how did you find that sleep away camp in California? and how did you go about signing up? 2) How long have you been going? 3) What do you do when you live in New York?

1. I heard about it from my brother’s friend, she had grown up going to the camp and worked there for a few years.

2. I just went to their website and filled out an application. Then went through a series of interviews, etc.

3. I go to school full time!