As I sit here writing this, I recall the tears that were streaming down my cheeks last night. Those tears that ran down my face down onto my pillow. The tears that soothed me to sleep after so long. I can't help but hate these tears and love them at the same time. I love crying. Call me crazy but I love crying. Why? I have no idea. Maybe it's the getting all my feelings out that I've kept in since after the last time I cried. Maybe it only makes sense to me, but whether it does or not doesn't matter. What really matters is I don't want her to leave me.
I don't want her to leave me. I'm practically dying right now as I write this, wanting to know if it's possible she could live with us, if she's staying with her aunt, or whether she'll go back home. But home should be here. She spent countless weekends here as we grew up. She was like my sister from the age of four until now. A sister that live around the corner and down the street. A sister I could tell everything to. She was practically my diary. When I cried, she was always my comfort. When I laughed, she would laugh with me. When it was silent, we'd break it with laughter.
Now she might be lost forever. I fear I will never see her again. Contacting her is a different story. That's possible if she moves down with her aunt.
Something just happened in her life of which I don't believe I can say on Whyville. My dear friend was put in protective custody and the two most likely to happen things are:
1) She'll stay in a foster home, or
2) Her aunt will come up and get her.
I'm afraid of both. I don't know why, but I am. Right now, it's all I can think about. That and homework and even homework is blocked out by thoughts of her. I don't want her to leave me.
I don't want her to leave me . . .
Author's Note: Sorry it was so short but I didn't want to go into full details.
