Butterfly Dress

(pictured- me in my butterfly dress, obviously somewhere I do not want to be.)

Dear Butterfly Dress,

I miss you- you were the perfect summertime dress. Your green matched the grass on our lawn, and your many butterflies made me feel like I was one too. You were the only good gift Grandma ever gave me. You came in a bag full of socks and underwear and a  card with no money. You were a shining star.

I shouldn’t have taken you on the trip.

But could you have blamed me? How could I have left you at home while I went to Rhode Island with Rachel to show you off on the beach? How could I not wear you to the clam bakes and the ferry rides?

But I made a mistake, I know.

I shouldn’t have let Rachel wear you.

I’m sorry. She begged and begged until her mom made me share. So I handed you over. She wore you to a nice restaurant where the line was out the door.

I didn’t know she’d be so impatient. I didn’t know she’d act like such a baby. I didn’t know she’d pee herself while wearing you.

After that, her mom let her sit through dinner and go to bed in the mess she made in you. I couldn’t look at you again. Even after she washed it. I put you in my suitcase, and I got home and hung you in my closet and never picked you up again.

Sorry, pal.



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