30 Day Challenge: Day 9

9. Whether it’s an old friend or an old flame, most people have at least one person that they miss. Pick a person you miss and contact them. Text them, call them, email them, tweet them. Whatever is most convenient. Write about what happens. From: https://www.facebook.com/notes/30-day-photo-challenge/the-30-day-photo-challenge-days-and-descriptions/121880474545138

Like Brittany, I’m slightly cheating with today’s topic. I came up with this prompt and I’m not sure if I had someone particular in mind when I thought of it, but if I did, it was probably Jay. Jay is a long story that I’ve never told anyone. He’s my longest long story. It’s a long story that started in 2008 and still hasn’t quite come to an end yet, but I fear it soon will.

I tried to get in contact with him a few days ago, after seeing HER (2013, Spike Jonze). I still haven’t heard back from him, and maybe I never will. He does this thing where he’ll speak to me one night and we’ll stay up until morning just catching up. He reminds me of all the reasons that I fell for him and then he disappears. He used to disappear for a few days. Then it was a few weeks. Now it’s months. I haven’t really spoken to him since early September. He’s almost like this supernatural being who’s always been there but only comes when I need him the most. For years now I’ve wanted to write a story about him because he’s this piece of me that no one ever sees. Like a dark secret that I keep locked away. Partially because I’m embarrassed, but mostly because he’s mine and I don’t want to share him with other people. I feel like if I tell my friends the full story, he’s no longer this special entity, no longer my mystery. It probably sounds silly. But I feel like everyone has a part of their life that they keep only to themselves, hidden from the rest of the world. He’s mine.

So, I didn’t quite fulfill the requirements of this post. But not for lack of trying. He just hasn’t responded to me. So instead, I’ve decided today that I’m going to write our story. In fiction form, changing a lot of the details. But it’s practically bursting out of me and I can’t hold it in anymore. It may be a short story or it may turn into something bigger. It’s been brewing in me for five years and I’ve wanted to write about it for so long that I know it could be the most personal thing I’ve ever written. And I may never want to share it with anyone. But I’ve got to get it out of me so that I can let go.

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