Graduation Card

This is a "card" (really short story) for a friend of mine who was graduating last year.. . .

A small desk is crammed into an alcove, pretending that it was meant to be there, ignoring the fact that, in actuality, it was more of an afterthought, the last detail that the painting could live without. At this desk sits a girl. An aura of importance and excitement wafts off her like the smell of freshly baked bread. This girl set for herself a task, and she sits furiously thinking of how to complete the task, which is to write a card to a graduating high school student. A seemingly easy task, write a few prettily cheerful words and be done with it, but this person is important to the girl. Therefore, the girl believes, she can afford no mistakes, she has determinedly decided on perfection. 

The girl may not be able to properly communicate with her mouth, for she does not think nearly enough before she speaks, but the girl is determined to make no misunderstandings or half-assed attempts, at “talking” with her words on this here paper.

But, what should she write? That is the question. Leigh, the student’s mother, told the girl to write what she would want other people to write about her when she graduated high school. The girl thinks of this and her determination at perfection, as she stares at the blinking dash on a clean piece of digital paper. The girl has a faint inkling of what she wants to write, a miniscule inclination, seemingly impossibly far away but close enough to touch at the same time. The girl, still pondering on her word choice, thinks it is really about how to start, if she can do that the rest will come naturally right?  So, she gives it a go, nervously pushing down on the menacing keyboard:

Dear Kyra, no, too expected. Kiki, no, does she even like to be called that by anyone not blood related to her? Yo, you hawt thang, you’re awesome and anyone who doesn’t think so should just got to he  NO. Too, inappropriate, the girl thinks confidently, shuddering at the thought of accidently putting that in the final draft.

Kyra, better to go with simple, the girl concludes nodding her head in her own self affirmation.  Over the past few years- Over the past few years what? Maybe the girl had less of an idea then she thought. But how can she put her feelings onto paper? How can she explain to Kyra that she has been like another sister to her these last few years? How can she say that she loves the way Kyra looks and admires everything that Kyra does? How can she say that even though she was her sister Dana’s friend, she felt just as close to Kyra? How can she say that Kyra makes her feel accepted and doesn’t understand why everyone seems to think Kyra acts sort of mean? (well, there are sometimes, the girl remembers chuckling) How can she even begin to “communicate” that the girl will miss Kyra as if she was traveling in to a distant galaxy? How can she say this like it has the amount of meaning she wants it to? How can the girl say that she loves Kyra more than a thousand suns?

She can’t. The girl just doesn’t know how. So, sighing, the girl closes up shop, the screen blinking into blackness, along with all of the girl’s hopes to say just the right thing. The girl is sad, Kyra will leave and she won’t know all the things the girl really wanted to make sure she knew.

When, out of the blue, an idea emerged and the girl brightened, maybe, just maybe, she can think before she speaks and actually verbally tell Kyra all these things. Maybe, just maybe, the girl will reach perfection after all.