Letters to Wyatt✔️

15

December 26th, 2015

Lately I've taken up going for walks by myself. It's a rather odd hobby, the kind you only find amongst sixty-year-old women trying to stay in shape, but it has a certain appeal to it, even for college-aged girls like me. There's something about getting up at six a.m. to walk around the neighborhood for an hour or two in the frigid winter air that is the perfect get away.

It's relaxing, and it gives me something to do, other than sit around and be sad. I'm getting so sick of that.

Except the thing about going on these walks is that they're the perfect time for thinking. And that's not always a good thing. Because thinking means memories and memories means reminders of you. And heaven knows I don't need any more of those than I already have.

Today as I bundled up in my red scarf (the one that matched yours) and my winter coat and set out on my walk with my earphones in, my mind turned to you. It's seemingly impossible for my thoughts not to end up to you somehow.

Today my mind fell upon a cold autumn day last year, a little less than a year before you died. We were both wearing our red scarves and we were walking hand in hand along the river when you decided that it would be the perfect time to teach me to skip rocks on the waters surface.

I was dreadful at it really, and no amount of practice could fix that, despite what you always rushed to assure me. When you could get your rock to jump six times, I was lucky to even get my rock further than a few feet out in the water before it sunk with a splash and thud to the river floor.

But despite my lack of rock-skipping skills, it was fun. You had a knack for that: making the tamest tasks fascinating and exciting.

I miss that. I could use that right now, but not quite as much as I could use you being with me.

Savannah

A/N: 1K READS YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!! please vote, comment, and follow! Thanks!