My Dear Bootham 〈2027〉

Meanwhile, I’ve changed a hundred times over. I’ve moved cities, changed jobs, lost people, found new ones, forgotten who I was and rebuilt myself from scratch. And through all of it, Bootham sat quietly on a shelf, in a box, or at the foot of my bed—waiting.

Looking at my dear Bootham tonight, I felt something I rarely allow myself to feel: tenderness without irony. my dear bootham

So tonight, I’ll tighten his loose button eye. I’ll dust him off. And I’ll put him back on the shelf—not as a decoration, but as a reminder. Meanwhile, I’ve changed a hundred times over

There’s a certain kind of peace that comes late in the evening, when the world finally shuts its mouth and all that’s left is the soft hum of the refrigerator and the weight of your own thoughts. Tonight, I found myself sitting on the floor, cross-legged, just… looking at my dear Bootham. Looking at my dear Bootham tonight, I felt