United States

A humble young storyteller who loves sunny days, brightly colored cacti, the ocean, and you.

Message from Writer

I'm a young storytellin' gal just over a month shy of being an actual, legal adult . . . that's a scary thought.
My writing passion is fiction/high fantasy, but every now and then I pop out an edgy poem or two about my feelings.
I am also a theatre kid. 100%. If writing is my passion, then acting is my dream.
I just love to tell good stories any way I can.

A Letter To The Tinman

March 19, 2019

PROMPT: Love in Words

I miss you, Tinman.
I'm gonna call you Tinman because that's who you were in the play.

Wow. Where to start?
Well, I guess I already started. "I miss you."
I do. I really do. I keep being reminded of how much I miss you every time I feel uneasy.
Because I never felt uneasy when I was with you.
Like, jeez, man. I don't know what it is about you, but you just made everything so . . . easy.
Talking was easy.
Laughing was easy.
Singing was easy.
Silence was easy.
Everything was easy around you.
We were around each other for how many weeks? Not that many. I mean, rehearsals only happened once or twice a week. For maybe a few months.
But man.
It felt like I'd known you my whole life.
Remember on performance day, we had some time to kill before we had to start getting ready for the performance, so we watched some dumb YouTube videos and laughed our heads off? Dude, I am not at all into Fortnite, but somehow that one part of that gameplay video you were watching was the funniest thing either of us had ever seen. The golf cart thing, remember? Jeez.

I went back and watched it again a few days after the play was over.
A few days after I wasn't sure I would ever see you again.
And I cried.
Not gonna lie, I did.

I still think back to that day. All the time. It seems so absurd to me now. You and me, watching Fortnite gameplay videos and Liza Koshy vlogs and laughing our heads off.
There's no one I would do that with but you.

And then, man. Then. The piano thing.
We were hanging around backstage a few hours before the performance and you found a piano and started playing. And man, you were amazing! You really were! I didn't know what song you were playing, but it didn't matter, because suddenly it was the only song I wanted to hear.
Then you noticed me standing there, listening. And you smiled. "You like that?" you asked. I smiled back and nodded. You really were amazing.
Then you started playing Faded.
I didn't recognize it at first, but when I did, I gasped. "Is that Faded?!"
You smiled and nodded, still playing, without missing a beat.
Then the vocal part came up, and I started singing.
And you did too.
We sang together.
You played A Sky Full Of Stars, and we sang that one too.
We were still singing it when it was time to get ready for the performance.

Jeez, dude. That whole day was like one of those cliche "Where have you been all my life?" moments.

And then . . .

it was over.

The play was over, and I wouldn't see you again for a long time . . .

But I just want you to know that every part of it has stuck with me over these many months since I last saw you.

Jeez, Justin.
I had never met you before that first day, but somehow you so quickly became everything.
I just want you to know that I haven't forgotten you.
I don't think I ever will.

Login or Signup to provide a comment.