After almost a whole year, i found my 6th grade graduation dress at the back of a closet. tonight i put it on, not to see how i looked, but to look back on the memories. To touch that awkward dressy fabric reminded me of sitting in it for hours and laughing with the kids around me as the teachers droned on and on about how we should walk in and at which symbol crash we were to spin and shit. To wear the dress for what it is, a girlie piece or crinkled mesh and a satin bow, i felt small and innocent again, because the last time i legitimately wore a dress to school by my own free will was probably kindergarten. I wore that dress when i went onto that stage and mumbled out the speech that i had prepared for and competed for and worked hard for.
It was that dress i had worn when David hugged me for the first and last time.
In that dress i spent my last day at Gomes as a student, as a true gopher. That was the day i said through clenched teeth,” i love pictures,” when david’s dad suggested a picture. I watched madagascar 3 in that dress.
i was uncomfortable, and this may not seem like much to you, but until today i had no idea how much this dress meant to me. so here i am at 2300, typing out my story.