John,
You have been gone for over two years now.
I live in San Francisco these days; moved here four months ago and things are built on constant surprises. This would make you smile, I know. Jake died. Brianna might have MS. Rhododendrons started blooming in January. I am running a half marathon on Sunday. My dad has started to regularly tell me he is proud of me.
I work full time in a desk job writing miscellaneous articles with no other purpose than to fool people into buying advertising space on the internet. I love it for the idea of what it represents and the opportunities it will lend itself to, but I can’t stand how much the sun taunts me from the other side of the window. I loaded up my car and drove down here hoping for the best. I found it, but am eager to evolve it a bit; a work in progress.
Sometimes I do things that are so ridiculous I won’t tell a soul about them. But I would tell you everything if you were still here. I miss you. I hope that everything is better than you ever hoped it could be wherever you are.
Eleven year old me seems like a figment of a dream memory, but I can rest a little easier knowing that you remember her perfectly well; plump limbs, rolling imperfections and all.
Always,
Kendall
