sometimes i wonder why you added me back after years of silence, was it the nostalgia that led you back to me? i want to break the ice, but i don't know how; i'm a strong swimmer but i fear the water of what was left unsaid will pull me under because even mermaids can drown—i remember when we went to dracula's ball, i remember our walk in our sundresses around edinboro one spring day; i remember when my electric went out in my dorm coming to visit you at yours and how we drank an entire bottle of peach champagne together—i remember the autumn walk around the lake at edinboro, visiting you when you lived in erie and philly; i remember spending time together in edinboro to celebrate my birthday—we used to be able to talk to each other about everything and nothing, but now i don't know how to formulate a sentence that might make you see me again; i know time has inevitably changed us both but i miss our adventures and our little talks—i miss riding around in your little pink car, my long hair dancing out the window; as we're singing at the top of our lungs to the music you're blasting laughing and living and filling the pockets of our collective universes with connection—& i know that i am the one that made things weird, i truly regret that; i thought you were trying to tell me that you didn't want to be my friend any longer but i read into something by overthinking and ruined a perfectly good friendship—i remember when you told me the scars from my gallbladder removal surgery looked like some artists would draw flowers, you taught me there was beauty in my scars and i may not always have believed that but i can see what you mean now; i wish that life wasn't such a harsh teacher sometimes—often she will give us a test before teaching us the lesson, i think i'm too impulsive and impatient for that sometimes; when i am bored i can come charging in—i know our misunderstanding falls squarely on my shoulders, but the moon can tell you of my every lament for you; and the sun can tell you how many times i've seen your face in white roses, girls with pink hair or anime shirts, little pink cars zooming by me, in every piece of vampire or faerie literature i've read, in every green forest which reminds me of lord of the rings; i grieve all the love i could not give you—i grieve that sometimes i am not as brave as i wish i could be, i fell in love with you; a part of me loves you still—yet i don't think i could ever tell you face-to-face for fear of ruining our friendship.