Mentally I’m still in your bedroom. Your walls covered with photos and magazine cut outs, the bright blue paint completely hidden behind a mosaic that never stopped growing. We’re listening to John Mayer or the Lumineers, probably getting ready for a school event or preparing to terrorize some other Mormons.
Mentally I’m still in your moms car. She’s listening to Marvin Gaye driving us up to Lake Tahoe. The roads wind with no guardrail and every so often we fear we’ll veer off the side. At the lake we don’t care for laying out and tanning, we’re climbing rocks until we’re so exhausted we have to tread water back.
Mentally I’m still telling you bad jokes that you genuinely laugh at so hard you can’t catch your breath. We joke that if I ever have a child you’ll have to raise it.
There’s a lot of places I want to be right now that aren’t here. You were the sweetest thing in my life and I definitely didn’t deserve you. I hope you’re somewhere warm and plush with lots of beautiful colors and lights. I love you.
-Kailee
