Dear Anne Shirley,
My book friend, how have you been? I picked you up again yesterday. Your book smells of morning dew and coffee stains.
You greeted me with a red haired, freckled, smile. You were on the bridge, talking about the colors of the sky and magic spells, and Gilbert was still bothering you about love.
I could lost in these pages any day.
Did I ever tell you, Anne of The Island is my favorite of your stories. When Gilbert leaves you, because you were so stupid. Good thing, fictional characters like you get happy endings. He could never move on, so of course he comes back.
Let me tell you…these things never happen in real life. Happy endings, are so rare to find, but I feel determined to die with one.
As you said once, ‘There’s another bend in the road after this. No one knows what will happen.’
I hold onto that; I always have since 5th grade.
I always find a gem when I pick you back up. Something I failed to see the last time, or that didn’t make sense.
You always reminded me of myself. Unhappy with the way you look, a vicious temper, day dreaming, trying to find the magic in every day things, and extremely prideful. You hated it when Gilbert laughed at your seriousness.
Thank you, when I read your books, I feel like I can conquer the world.
Your real life friend,