Two years. Wow. It’s been awhile. It seems like two days. I can still remember the color of your eyes, your dimples, the way your body feels when you hugged me, and of course, the way you kissed me. What if I forget? I don’t want to. If I forget, who remembers those things about you? You were my first, and I was your first. But I don’t write to remember you, I write because you asked me to. Asked me to make sure that you’re always updated on my life. So, here I go. I started senior year a few weeks ago. In a way, that’s harder to believe than two years. Homecoming is tomorrow. Marissa will probably drag me out to a party to be her wingwoman, or whatever. And I’ll go. And be utterly bored. Remember that one time when we meant to that party under the boardwalk, and you held me in your arms? We danced in the sand all night long. Parties haven’t been the same since that one. And it’s not just that I don’t like getting drunk and dancing all over some random guy, I miss being there with a purpose. You gave me a purpose. Whenever we went to parties, I looked out for and made sure you didn’t get too drunk or cheat on me. You gave me purpose in life. Knowing that you would always be there, your sweet, sweet voice, infiltrating my ears like warm melted chocolate. You’d look at me, and say,” What’s up Izzy, besides the sky.” Did you know that you were the last person to call me that? After that last day, when you looked at me, and told me, “Izzy, I’ll never stop loving you. You need to remember that.”. I went home, and when my mom asked me how I was, I screamed at her and told her that Izzy was dead. That I would never be the same. To call me Isabelle. She was the only person who knew why I changed names. Not even Marissa knows why. To everyone else. I just outgrew Izzy. But I didn’t. If you came back, I would legally change my name back. But you’re not coming back. So I will remain Isabelle.
Love always,
Isabelle