www.whyville.net Sep 8, 2013 Weekly Issue

Bye Bye, Bluebird

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I knew it was happening. I knew it'd hurt, but it's a weird feeling, really. It's a mix of grief and frustration, but pure happiness. It's a gun that shoots a hole through my heart but gives me butterflies in my stomach, a feeling of joy as I watch the big bird fly off. Bye bye, bluebird. I knew he'd be well fit for life itself, he was brave and strong and independent. I admired him strongly. We both had great moments with eachother, I'll cherish those for my life. We agree with eachother that our life can be hard, and you're always there for me while fighting for yourself, and I'm proud. I'll miss you, but I love you and I'm proud of you. Your life isn't the easiest, neither is anyone's, but you're strong, stronger than the problems you go through.

Everything you've done for me makes me happy. The times you've spent with me were mesmerizing. Any time I've ever spent with you makes my heart ache and hate aging, but how can I? You're living happily and finally getting out, to see the world and live your life.

The beach . . . the beach was the truly most memerizing place I've ever been with you. Probably two days before you went. The sight was amazing in itself . . . the water barely broken, blending in with the light blue horizon, making it appear as if you were staring into nothingness itself. The fire jumping up and engulfing the wood, the night growing darker as the fire rages on, popping out against the blackness that surrounded us. Our voices filled the night, talking about everything we didn't like, everything that was hurting us. By the time we were about to head home, the water was as black as the night. As we stood there, it was a serene moment. We were on the edge of the world.

It was an amazing night, it truly was. The silence between us barely being existed at all. If I could stay in that one moment forever, life would be perfect.

But life isn't perfect. Memories grow old along with the people that have lived them. But as people grow older, things change. Memories don't. At one point in your life you might be watching these people change as you hold on to those distant memories that you and your old friends had made. I don't want us to be like that. I want life to stay the same.

It's impossible, and I know that. We can't stay like this and I know you have to go.

So fly on, bluebird. Live life to the fullest. Take the oppurtunities that are handed to you, but please, please . . . don't forget about me.

Bye bye, bluebird . . . I love you.


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