Punk 57

We were perfect together. Until we met. I cant help but smile at the lyrics in her letter. She misses me. In fifth grade, my teacher set us up with pen pals from a different school. Thinking I was a girl, with a name like Misha, the other teacher paired me up with her student, Ryen. My teacher, believing Ryen was a boy like me, agreed. It didnt take long for us to figure out the mistake. And in no time at all, we were arguing about everything. The best take-out pizza. Android vs. iPhone. Whether or not Eminem is the greatest rapper ever... And that was the start. For the next seven years, it was us. Her letters are always on black paper with silver writing. Sometimes theres one a week or three in a day, but I need them. Shes the only one who keeps me on track, talks me down, and accepts everything I am. We only had three rules. No social media, no phone numbers, no pictures. We had a good thing going. Why ruin it? Until I run across a photo of a girl online. Names Ryen, loves Gallos pizza, and worships her iPhone. What are the chances? F*ck it. I need to meet her. I just dont expect to hate what I find.