All this time, it had been her. She was with me in that basement for twenty-two years in the form of a childhood wish. Written on my arm in black ink, misconstrued and upside down, those letters manifested into the only true friend I had down in that hole. It created pages upon pages of stories and adventures, keeping me company, keeping me sane, keeping me alive for so many years. It was her. It’s always been her. With our initials on my arm and branded in my heart, I squeeze her tight, peppering kisses into her hair as I whisper words of love against her ear. Sydney Neville + Oliver Lynch
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