An awkward account.

I've been wanting to run into you for quite some time, you know, just a casual, " hi how are you?" kind of run in. But today when it finally happened, I realized that the sarcasm in your face and on your lips would never be the same as the days we use to spend together. The words we spoke today were the first in quite some time. Something like six months or so... how can people go from such a personal relationship to something so distant and cold? A relationship that use to be filled with laughing and dancing and singing has now only been replaced with confusion, bitterness, and a small sense of hatred. How can something like that be? You will soon be two years older than the day I met you, and now I don't have the slightest clue about you. Some how, even through the muck, the bitterness, the "unfinished business", there is still a connection: One between you and me...a history....

My heart is broken because of the way things have turned out. You and I, we well we'll never be close... not again. It's feels like something, some where deep inside, has almost died. Like something is missing. Life has many reasons for the things that happen in it, and sometimes it's simply because there needs to be distance. Maybe we just need to have some kind of distance, but how long can two people, who lived together for a year, who became family... how long can there be distance? How long can the broken memories be there? Your accent is almost gone in English, and I wonder if you understand things... deep things in English.

Things were obviously never meant to be that we would keep contact to each other. You'll be sixteen soon... so happy early birthday. "I wish you well," as has been said so many other times. I hope you love Southaven as much as I love Lage, with the exception, that I hope you not only want to come back and visit... but have people to come see. I hope you get the chance to come back, the chance to love something...somewhere more than words. I really do wish you the best.

Michelle