Dear you,

I miss your friendship. I know I shouldn't, it's been a long time. But somehow I keep getting sucked in to wondering what it would be like to still be friends. We were, once. After love was dead and before spite got in the way. I wonder now if we'd even like each other if we hung out again -- we've both changed so much. I've realized that I like being girlie and professional and I've dropped the little kid act. You ... well, I don't know you anymore. You spend your time with people I don't know (and likewise) and have interests that I don't know. I've found my own interests and realized that I don't enjoy most of what you did.

Still, I find myself dreaming about you. You babysitting my kids, us hanging out and being silly, you finding the one of your dreams. I want that for you the way I found it for me. And maybe then it would be easier to call you and say, "What are you doing tuesday? I need a friend."

Truly,
me.