This is truly what novels are made of; would you believe it? She found me again, after all these years. Her letter was overwhelming and surreal, calling back a time and place that haven’t existed in my present for so long. Thinking of her in the past tense for the past few years has been awful, but now, facing her, wondering if she is still the person that I encapsulated and preserved, is terrifying no less. If ever there was a moment when a look needs to transverse all that words cannot, this would be it. But, as life would have it, we are miles away, worlds apart. We can pick up the phone, pick up the letter, pick up the conversation, but the lives we led in-between, the moments of transition that came and went...how do I chase them back, sieve them through. Knowing all that she is today, I wish for a glimpse of her yesterday, and the days before. There are disconnected memories of that summer long ago, images and sounds I cannot string together, only her laugh and our happiness stands true. Oh… we have done it once, we will do it again!