Day Nine

Yesterday, Wednesday, I was day nine. The day I write about someone who I didn't want to let go, but just drifted.

I think that would be my childhood friend, Signe.

We went through a lot together. The entire sixth grade. The entire seventh grade. In fact, she was the reason I transfered middle schools. I wanted to be able to go somewhere that I had friends. We were placed in different halls, and made other friends, but that is beside the point. I honestly am glad I was given that chance. We survived the eight grade. With a lot of eight grade silliness and drama. When I moved during my eight grade year, our parents would drive to a halfway point and we would trade cars and spend the weekends together. Every single time I eat barbeque chicken I am reminded of her, I am not sure why. In the eleventh grade, when her dad died, she drove an hour to my house so we could cry together. Whenever I hear a Garth Brooks song, I think of his funeral and watching one of my best friends heartbreak all over again.I think of the heartbreak of knowing I could never give her the thing she needed most.

Somewhere in all of that I gave her a stuffed fox, and she named it Tod. And I think she gave me a stuffed dog, and I named it Copper... or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, I think of her when I watch the Fox and the Hound and my heart misses her a little.

I have no idea where she is at now. And I have no idea when that change happened. I think somewhere between my senior year of high school and my freshman year of college. But I often wonder where she is and how she is doing... and whether or  not she is happy.

Sig, wherever you are, I hope you are completely happy.