Dear Liz

Hey.

It's been a while now. You could say I've finally come to accept. I think ignore is a better word.
But it feels like we've talked it out. A little. You speak to me in my art. Through our past letters. In the corners of my memory. You're here, but you're slowly leaving.

I mean, not entirely. You will forever be in the back of my heart and mind. Bananas will always flash by when I see an Italian Greyhound. Your whoops of joy will echo when I see a flippin fork lift. Canvas and buckles brush against my skin when I see a purple carabiner. Betas, bullets, iFly, Hawaiian snacks. Homemade wrapping paper and crystal necklaces. Shoplifting. Stargazing. Sex.
All of it is still here, with me, a part of me.

I'm losing the details. On which finger your tattoo lay. The sarcasm laced songs you showed me. Your phrases. Your clothing, and jewelry. I guess it's not the important stuff, but it's a part of you and I don't want to loose any crumb of the Liz I remember.

You're like the wind now. I think of you when I'm inspired to action. You are a silent force that remains with me. Adds strength when I can no longer muster it in myself. You are the kick in my step, the ring in my laughter, and most importantly, the mark by which I compare my life, in retrospect.

Miss you, girl.
Kenz