To You.

          Today, someone asked me what my favorite part of being a writer was.

          When I didn’t have an immediate answer, they looked confused. So, I settled for saying that I just like telling stories. The truth, however, my dear is that I write for you. The you that’s had a long day. The you that I miss so dearly, it makes my heart ache. The you that I wish I could reach out and touch or talk to. I write to connect to you. To hold on, as much as I can, to the magic you gave me.

          The magic you taught me. Magic I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for you.

          You taught me secret languages that I can’t speak with anyone else.

          The you that I miss every single day. The you that I don’t reach out to because every time I do, my calls are left unanswered. The you that I feel useless to. Worthless to. The you, that if I were stronger-or maybe a little weaker, I would put down like some men have to put down the bottle. A drug. An addiction. A coping mechanism that has grown and flourished within me over the years.

          I write for you.

          I write for you so that even in my own way I can still speak to you.

          I write for you, so you know that I will never forget what the world is like without magic. Because how could I? You showed me how to be strong. How to build castles. Worlds. People. Resolve conflict, fall in love, and chase my dreams.

          I write you for.

          And now, I must write for me too. To keep the magic alive.

          -Sky