"The Last Echo"

In the old treehouse, I saw a little light. A little hope.

I remember when we were seven, we used to sneak up here and eat candy without fear of cavities and calories. The summer sun would rejoice with us and, when it was on break, we would watch the stars and map out galaxies we would visit. Winter’s chill would never scare us, even though we made ghosts with our words. We would whisper even though nobody was around us, made sure that a gentle breeze didn’t steal our secrets out of rickety windows. Walls lined with dreams and a sanctuary for our whispers, I remember when we used to be “we”.

I look at the tree house now, mangled in an embrace with the tree it used to rest on. It gives me comfort to know that the place of our friendship has gone back to its rightful owner. It stays sacred that way, and that’s how I feel about you. I still do.

[picture found here]