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August 11, 2015
Pink envelopes, pink scented sheets of paper, my handwriting informing you how slick your hair looked today, how your smile was a little on the smirk-y side, how, when you laughed at the news, your eyes looked sad and worried. I watch you every chance I get, I send you these letters to let you know how someone saw you on a particular day when you thought you succeeded at putting up a happy, brave front. I hear what you are not saying, and someday I hope to be brave enough to emerge from behind my pink, scented stationery.