Sometimes I get the familiar urge to pick up the phone. Then I'm not sure if you even answer phone calls these days. I would text or message you but I am always afraid I will be imposing. Or I may come off as insane as I fear I may be sometimes.

It got into me a little to early I suppose. That burst of fireworks happens often but once. As I have seen a show a time or two since, nothing was as bright. 

No other being ever touched me the way you did. And I know you know it. It's been there for 15 years and it never fails to prove itself. Time, and time again.

Do you feel it still? Ever see a hawk in the sky and think of my mom watching over you. I know it has to make you think of me. 

Even if for a brief moment do you ever wonder what could have been if circumstances weren't what they were when we met? 

I have so much to tell you. Things you would understand and not take as a masked insult. You understand my drive to lose weight. To get sober. To prove myself. You get it, because you want that. I think I could help you. 

I care about you're heart. Your mental health. I want to know you can be whomever you set out to be. Just look at what I have done. All with you in the back of my mind. I just miss the way we would connect and reconnect after a separation of years and it is always where we left it. 

That's why I know I'm not actually insane. I just hope wherever you may be that you know. It never goes away I just pack it up in the boxes where other things go when they hurt. Only I want to let that go. and if ever we meet I want to apologize for all the growing I did at your expense. 

I know you are not at fault for everything wrong with me. Something others use to play victim. I never did. I never would. because I was immature. I handled things wrong. I let my pride dictate my actions. 

Something tells me we will meet again soon. and all I have written here will be unspoken. It will blow away in the summer breeze as it has so many summers before. Only now we will know we have something between our otherness that refuses to let us break the cycle completely. 

And if I'm wrong, I can't blame it on the alcohol this time. Just the mind of a story teller with too much time on her hands and a story to tell ....