Dear Hugo,

Remember how last summer I wrote you a message at 3am?

Your response saved my life.

You responding saved me.

I was fifty feet deep and still falling

into this confusion and heartbreak.

All my life it feels I have been a crooked line

the world has tried to hammer correct.

In my dreams I am anything but straight. 

Then I wake up

and the hammer starts again.

I lay in a line

this body of mine fighting to be free. 

My leg bends.

My leg is straightened.

My toe twitches. 

My toe curls back in.

My head lifts up.

My chin meets my chest.

It is this twisted dance

that I am trying to stop. 

All around me I am nailed back into place.

But then my hand reached out 

and you met it with yours.

When everyone else knew who I was before I did

and I was scared of becoming who I am

you did not pick up the hammer.

Long after you let go

my hand stayed outstretched

and just like that

I was no longer a straight line. 

Dear Hugo

a million times, thank you.

20/53