Spark.

Dear You:

Today is your birthday.

Do you know how I know that? I know because ever since that first day of third grade, when I was the new girl, shy and quiet and peeking out from under my bangs and holding my tiny, pieced together smile, you were there. You were my best friend, you know, the one. For years and years. Remember that? That first day we met, and your father laughed and said that finally, there was another redhead to join you. I remember, because that day was the day I officially met you and we started that friendship. It's crazy, looking back on it all, how well you knew me. I suppose now, if we were to meet again, you would feel as if you no longer know me at all.

But just remember all of those memories we have; how we would sing along to that song over and over again and when the swear words came along, we just yelled until they passed to protect my little brother's ears. How we both loved reading and writing more than anything, how we started our own band that we were sure would make us famous. How we would talk for hours about books and silly movies and how we would run through scenes of our favorites over and over out loud until we had them memorized. How the two of us would play store and always complain, and would set up that old cash register in your room and let your little sister be the customer. You would always talk about how someday, you would get a cat and name it Tigger.

How we would ride bikes downtown to the market to buy cake mix, and stop at the house with the free cucumbers, and the huge mansion along the way. That day we set off some one's car alarm on accident, and got away as quickly as we could because we were sure someone was after us. And you would always sing, all the time, and I was so envious of your voice. I remember all of it, I swear. And I am realizing how much I miss it all, how much I miss you. We were the redheads. We were the two girls, the ones that people always asked if they were sisters. That was us. I remember your family and exactly where you live, your house, your grandparent's home. I have your phone number floating around in the back of my brain; even after so many years, all of those phone conversations we used to have made sure that it would be ingrained forever. I remember it all.

It has been so many years since I have seen you. I tried to get in touch, but I am not sure if you didn't receive my letter, or if you did and simply did not want to reply. I miss you. And I wish that I had the courage to pick up the phone and dial in those numbers floating through my thoughts, your number.

I dreamt about you last night. It was the first time since I have thought about you in a long while; I dreamed that I saw you and your family, that it was just the same as if we had never spent any time apart. And when I woke up I realized that today was your birthday. It's strange, to me, how sometimes it seems like the universe just knows something.

Maybe tomorrow I will try again, I will be brave and send you that letter. Maybe you will write back. But I know myself too well, and that will probably not happen, so I will be a coward and simply write this instead, and cross my fingers that maybe, by some freak twisting of fate, you might see it someday and know it is for you. I am sorry that we don't see each other at all anymore, that I let our friendship slip away and escape. We had something good, something real, and you will always be one of my best childhood friends. I love you for that, I always will, and perhaps when we are old and grown we will meet again and it will be like we are best friends again, like no time has passed at all. And you can tell me everything that has happened in your life since we last spoke.

Happy Birthday, L. I hope it was fantastic.

Love, E.