Dear, My Growing Years

Dear Hope,

Do you remember the first time we crossed paths? I had the most devastating morning at home with my dad walking out on us. I ran to school to run away from the pain when I collided with you in the hallway. Do you still remember the incoherent apology I mumbled before entering the wrong classroom? Or that I bumped into you again, while I was heading out, embarrassed? I swear you had the softest chest for a sixteen year old boy. You told me we should stop meeting like this as if we were a movie cliché.

Who knew then that you were going to save me from drowning in my sorrows or that this messy haired boy I bumped into one fine morning would become my hope? Henri Adams was your name as gathered by my inquisitive best friends. You were all that we talked about during lunch that day. Do you still remember that I had a huge crush on Edward Morrison from drama department? Finding out that you guys go way back was the highlight of our discussion. By the end of the day, those two idiots had filled my brain with your name that I almost forgot the broken home waiting for me.

I had a hard time bringing up the topic to my friends so I couldn't tell them. I tried my best to comfort my mom. She confessed she did not take any breaks from work to distract her from my dad. Mom already found out about his affair two months ago but she decided to forgive him for our sake. But quarrelling between them started which turned more frequent every day. They fought a lot the previous night, dad ended up sleeping on the couch. We woke up that morning to a simple note on the kitchen counter that stated that he was sorry and that he's long gone from us.

Do you remember the shock I received the next morning when you asked me how I was doing because you saw me teary eyed the previous morning?

Dear hope, I'm grateful for that question even today.

Love,

Aera.