Sunday, September 15, 2013

my Anne

Last night I dreamed about Lindsay. She was my bosom friend through middle school and high school. Red headed, she was the spontaneous and outgoing one, and whatever we did, even locking me in the closet until I told her who I had a crush on, we always had fun. She would write stories, mostly love
stories, that we as girls devoured. She would give us pages and pages that we would read and then couldn't wait to get the rest of the story as she wrote it. I always thought she would be a great author, and I still do think she will someday.

In my dream she had written a book and she was well off because of it, but she was modest about it. She had a gorgeous new house in the desert and two roommates, but I only remember one of them. She was 4 ft tall and looked like she was our age, but she said she was really 50 years old. Then I started dreaming about little people getting mistreated and how tall people treat little people like children. But back to Lindsay, I was so proud of her. I didn't say it out loud to her but in my mind I was cheering her saying 'I knew you could do it! Yes!' And her, seeing my excitement at what she had done said "well, it's only one book and I haven't written the second one yet." It was like she didn't even see how successful her first book had been. Even though I hadn't read it  or heard of it, I figured if it paid her enough to buy this huge brand new house she was doing really well.

The truth is I miss her. I don't think about it every single day, but often something I see or hear will remind me, and I miss her outgoing personality, her spark, her pzazz. I definitely learned one thing though as we parted ways, it's that people have to live their own lives. In college we started going different directions and I struggled so much trying to keep her on the same path as me, and I think she equally struggled to keep me going the same direction she was, but we were both changing, and eventually we had to go our own ways. I still always hope that at some point in live there can be a reunion. I imagine we're in our fifties and we get to meet again and tell each other all about how our lives have gone, and that we can be friends again. I look forward to it, and and I hope she gets to do everything she's ever wanted in life.

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