I guess you've been using your shower sandals now that you're back in the dorm. Kind of reverting back in time to freshman year. Those black rubber protectors. I swear they guarded me from all the germs of the dorm. The material strap was almost like burlap the way it would rub the insides of your toes a raw, red color, but it didn't matter. You wore them anyway, because any little blisters you got when you were wearing them were forgivable.

Those flip-flops. The sandals. Your shoes - you left them here for a while. Lent them to me to keep me safe from my fears. But that's the thing about something borrowed. It doesn't belong to you and eventually you have to give it back. That's the hard part because before you ever had something you never knew how much you'd miss it.

I don't even know why I'm writing all this to you. I told you how I've dealt with things by writing lately, but you've never seen any of it. I guess I'm trying to give you a peek of who I am now. Anyway, thank you for being my sandals, even if it was only for a little while.