My best friend and I were taking a walk through a tunnel, and at the end we found some bits of paper. We pieced together what we could, and found it was a letter from a boy in prison to the girl he loves. What we read broke our hearts.

- Alaska

“I miss you Cassie. I really really do. I made a huge mistake ever letting you go. And I regret it everyday. Now that I have been sober and have had so much time to think, I realize how much of a fool I was to push away the one person that loved and cared for me so much, and I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry for writing you and doing all the wrong I did to you. I love you.”

“Not a whole lot to do in here, and reading keeps my mind off the real world and missing you.”

“I love you, Cassie. Don’t forget it and please don’t forget me.”

There was a box of your belongings in Daddy’s closet and whenever he wasn’t there I would open it up and look at all of your things. One day, I took your strawberry necklace, being that I was a little girl and loved girly things like pink and jewelry. I kept it with me until the day that I couldn’t find it anymore and I cried and cried over you. Back then, I only knew a few things about you: that you were born in February like me, that you were a singer, that you were smart and beautiful, that you died in October from a brain tumor, and that you loved strawberries. Now I know that I wish I could’ve known you, and why I always loved strawberries.

- Kim

I stole this back when I was so in love with you it hurt. It was like a game of tag, the way I kept stealing and then returning it to you, until one day, I knew I had to stop loving you. Now we’re not as close and we keep on missing each other – different schedules and addresses and all that stuff – but when you ask about the watch, I lie. I was supposed to return the watch, but I wanted a piece of you with me. And besides, I always liked leather watches, and watches that were too big for my thin wrists and tiny hands.


You used to tell me that my dreams, my wishes, my life, were wound in that dream catcher. At night when the world fell silent, you used to whisper in my ear that every single star was an ambition, a dream. You were sweet, shy, musical. But most importantly you believed in my dreams. And that was the magical thing about you, and I’ll always remember you as not my big sister but a person to look up to.

- Summer Makya

We met in his hometown in Northern America during a long winter. We were both travelers, and tended to become depressed when stuck in one place for more than a few months. From the first day we met, we knew we’d have to part ways three months later, and it was a very intense time that changed me completely. That day finally came. “You’ve kept me sane,” he said, and handed me a small meteorite he had found in Turkey. Whenever I miss him now, I look at my own little piece of outer space and send him love and light. (Until we meet again, J.) 

- Lor van Roehm

I saw you for the first time wandering around Salamanca with this bag. Tall, thin as a spaguetti noodle, bearded, and surprisingly tan for that time of year in mid-November. You lived on the fourth floor of my building. You saw my posters from Nantes, so you thought it would be nice to chat in French. It was a week later that I realized every time I had a “rendez-vous” at your place, I always tried to look pretty. I loved your “I hate humans” monologues. Then you started to listen to those people, and one day you remarked, “We have more of an intellectual type of relationship, don’t we.“

I know you don’t look at me with the same eyes as you did in November when your sheets fell down to my terrace, but when I look at this bag, I see the mysterious tall bearded spaguetti man who wanders around the city with a bottle of wine in his hands.

- Cristina

I got this bowl at a school event. Because I was an embarrassed teenager, I spent the whole evening avoiding my mom. All these tables were filled with talkative, happy-looking people. I saw my mom sitting at a table with my baby brother, alone, and I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach. I didn’t look her way again. To this day, the guilt is still latched to my heart.

- C.X.L.