Status: Just gettin' started
Flawed
Sing Me To Sleep
Dear David,
I miss you. Words can't describe how much I do. Walking by your empty bedroom everyday breaks me in two, and sometimes it's gets so much harder to pretend everything is okay.
Mom's the same as ever, and you know how that is...or not. I mean, you passed before they got divorced so you never had the joy of experiencing mom ignoring you. I'm assuming through all these letters though you're starting to catch the drift.
You'll be dead nine years a week from tomorrow and it makes me wonder how I've managed to live on through all this time without seeing you. You'll be turning twenty-seven in a few months and I'll make a note to buy some more flowers to put at your grave.
Speaking of, the box of letters is growing so large it's getting difficult to even close it. I might need a new box too...
I wish you could respond, David. I know that even when I annoyed you to no end because I was nine at the time, you still loved me. You would come into my room and pick out my favorite stuffed animal and have a puppet show for me, pretending to be a ventriloquist, and even though I was way too old for that stuff, I never complained because it was those nights we would laugh our hardest and share so many stories.
I convinced you to finally ask out Taylor because you wouldn't shut your trap about her, and I swear, I you two were the cutest couple since High School Musical. After your car accident, she was a mess, and we still keep in touch, actually. I got an e-mail from her the other day asking how things were and that when December rolls around and she's here to visit family, we'll head to the mall to spend some time together.
She still misses you, and I can tell even through the e-mail. I'm a spitting image of you and I can't imagine the nostalgia she has whenever she sees my Facebook profile picture...
It's funny to think that when you were sixteen, just before your accident, MySpace was the cool thing to have. Now, MySpace is "so totally out of date" as Vanessa likes to say.
I wonder if there will be a day that Facebook will slowly become obsolete and they'll be an ever bigger and better website.
It's hard to fathom, I admit, but I wouldn't put it past the technological era to succeed in doing so.
Anyway, I'm sure you're done hearing me rant about Facebook and stuff I've said at least a thousand times, so I guess it's time for me to think of a new topic.
There's this guy. I saw him today in the parking lot before the first day started and...I don't know. I've never seen him before and usually guys with motorcycles and hair so dark it reflects the sun don't catch my eye, but he did. And I don't even know his name. (Which is bugging me to no end.) I'm constantly referring to him in my mind as Mystery Boy, but that sounds like some lame ass superhero. Not to mention it makes me think even more about what his name really is, which in turn makes me wonder why I'm so caught up on him, which makes me feel like a ten year-old again because I'm the one pawning after him when he just looks right through me.
And trust me, ever since I became 'popular,' it's usually reversed -- the guys wanting me.
I don't understand it.
Well Vanessa's giving me this weird look as to what I'm writing about and why it's taking me so long, so I really gotta go. Not to mention we'll most likely end up at the mall and my lovely teachers already gave me some homework, so it'll be a late night as always.
Miss you so much it hurts. Hope heaven is as much as a party as we think it is.
Love,
Payton
P.S. I'll be listening to Lullabies tonight like you always used to (so loudly I could hear it through the walls.) It'll be like you're still here, singing me to sleep.
I miss you. Words can't describe how much I do. Walking by your empty bedroom everyday breaks me in two, and sometimes it's gets so much harder to pretend everything is okay.
Mom's the same as ever, and you know how that is...or not. I mean, you passed before they got divorced so you never had the joy of experiencing mom ignoring you. I'm assuming through all these letters though you're starting to catch the drift.
You'll be dead nine years a week from tomorrow and it makes me wonder how I've managed to live on through all this time without seeing you. You'll be turning twenty-seven in a few months and I'll make a note to buy some more flowers to put at your grave.
Speaking of, the box of letters is growing so large it's getting difficult to even close it. I might need a new box too...
I wish you could respond, David. I know that even when I annoyed you to no end because I was nine at the time, you still loved me. You would come into my room and pick out my favorite stuffed animal and have a puppet show for me, pretending to be a ventriloquist, and even though I was way too old for that stuff, I never complained because it was those nights we would laugh our hardest and share so many stories.
I convinced you to finally ask out Taylor because you wouldn't shut your trap about her, and I swear, I you two were the cutest couple since High School Musical. After your car accident, she was a mess, and we still keep in touch, actually. I got an e-mail from her the other day asking how things were and that when December rolls around and she's here to visit family, we'll head to the mall to spend some time together.
She still misses you, and I can tell even through the e-mail. I'm a spitting image of you and I can't imagine the nostalgia she has whenever she sees my Facebook profile picture...
It's funny to think that when you were sixteen, just before your accident, MySpace was the cool thing to have. Now, MySpace is "so totally out of date" as Vanessa likes to say.
I wonder if there will be a day that Facebook will slowly become obsolete and they'll be an ever bigger and better website.
It's hard to fathom, I admit, but I wouldn't put it past the technological era to succeed in doing so.
Anyway, I'm sure you're done hearing me rant about Facebook and stuff I've said at least a thousand times, so I guess it's time for me to think of a new topic.
There's this guy. I saw him today in the parking lot before the first day started and...I don't know. I've never seen him before and usually guys with motorcycles and hair so dark it reflects the sun don't catch my eye, but he did. And I don't even know his name. (Which is bugging me to no end.) I'm constantly referring to him in my mind as Mystery Boy, but that sounds like some lame ass superhero. Not to mention it makes me think even more about what his name really is, which in turn makes me wonder why I'm so caught up on him, which makes me feel like a ten year-old again because I'm the one pawning after him when he just looks right through me.
And trust me, ever since I became 'popular,' it's usually reversed -- the guys wanting me.
I don't understand it.
Well Vanessa's giving me this weird look as to what I'm writing about and why it's taking me so long, so I really gotta go. Not to mention we'll most likely end up at the mall and my lovely teachers already gave me some homework, so it'll be a late night as always.
Miss you so much it hurts. Hope heaven is as much as a party as we think it is.
Love,
Payton
P.S. I'll be listening to Lullabies tonight like you always used to (so loudly I could hear it through the walls.) It'll be like you're still here, singing me to sleep.