Dear Ana

by I.I.E.

I glanced at him when he didn’t respond, and Noah was smiling brightly. “What?” I demanded. “You called me your friend.”

“You’re pretty,” he pressed on. “Effortlessly, painlessly, fluently pretty.”

“I hope you can heal from the things that are silently tearing you apart. I hope you can find happiness.”

“I wanted to get you flowers, as they’re a first date rite of passage, but I didn’t want to get you real ones because I knew they would eventually die.” I looked up at him and he was staring at me intensely. “I don’t want what we have to ever die, Maya.”

“I love you, Maya. Even the parts of yourself you think are too broken. Even the parts you don’t love about yourself.