Dear Alex,
Dear Alex, people-is-life stories

notashley Y o U r F u t U r E A u t h O r
Autoplay OFF   •   5 years ago
Sometimes we miss people. Sometimes, we act wrong towards it.

Dear Alex,

A short story told through letters.

Dear Alex, Do you remember me?

The guy who sat next to you in class? The guy who made you laugh? The guy who was your best friend? You probably don't remember. I don't either.

Dear Alex, You probably don't remember.

Its me, Derek. Remember good ole Derek? Heh. Heh. If you remember, your I guess, best friend, write me back or call me. Ok? As always, Hope you find more maple leaves. :)

Dear Alex, Yes, I remember the maple leaves.

I remember when we used to take walks around the park and EVERY.SINGLE.TIME you would stop, pick a maple leaf, and name it. It was funny, although I was mad you named a broken one, Derek.

Dear Alex, I missed you.

I wonder who you are now. Maybe you became the author you wanted to be. Maybe you bother someone else with your maple leaf business. Gosh, I miss you Alex. Do you miss me?

Dear Alex, Would it hurt to reply?

I know I'm probably blowing up your mail each day or something. But is it really that hard to reply? My address is on the letters. Visit me or call back ok?

Dear Alex, Did you forget me already?

Please. Please. Talk to me. Maybe you are busy or something. Maybe you never gotten my letters. But if you never gotten them, why do I bother writing?

Dear Alex, I confess.

I Love You. Always did. Always will.

Dear Alex, I love you.

I never told you. I never got the chance too either. I wish I did. I regret it. No. I regret everything. I'm a failure. Move on with your life. Gosh, you probably already did.

Dear Alex, I'm moving.

I'm going somewhere else. I'm going far away from everywhere. I'm not including my address. I don't care anymore. One day, I'm going to move away from everywhere. I'm going to live alone.

Dear Alex, Good-bye.

I hate good-byes. Maybe you do too. Here's another one. Bye. You will never see or hear from me again. I'll be living far away with my family. I don't want to grow up. But I will. I will.

But something sat in the mailbox of Derek's old home.

It was a letter. The letter was slowly rotting and aging. Dust covered the envelope and cobwebs too. But the faint words of, From Alex, could be still seen. Seen, but forgotten.

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