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Alex by supimawriter

I don't like hats anymore. My friend from camp always wore a hat, and so did I. We would switch hats sometimes, wearing each other's hat for sometime. He let me wear his hat to Art one day. I drew it. I was so proud. That was in, oh I don't know, August? The end of summer. I lost that drawing. God, I miss him. I really do. I imagine him moving to my home town, him still wanting to be friends with me. Everything being ok. But that's never going to happen. I get the feeling sometimes like he's forgotten me. I certainly haven't forgotten him. The day after camp ended, I cried myself to sleep. I missed him then and I miss him now, in the cold winter months. I'm never going to forget him. Never.

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Eh, toss this story
6:10
Hats

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