Of all the things I miss about her, I miss her friendship most of all. Spring's coming on--the sun surfaces most days to signal her arrival--but January's bite is still thick in the air and it carries her memory in its arms. In the cold months things were crisp and new between us and the possibility of spring was still ahead. And as the warmer days spread out before us, something suddenly shifted in the earth and she vanished. She vanished and I remained. And gradually, my memory of her began to fade, until today, like so many days when our love was new, I wonder if she was real. Our friendship feels like a hologram with her gone and she is less and less vivid in my mind.

But I still think of Kelly every day. I miss the catch of a southern drawl you could hear in between her words sometimes. I miss the way she could always get me giggling. I miss the readiness with which we seemed to come together. I miss the way she talks and watching her walk. I miss her arrogance and her innocence. I miss her stories. I even miss her dog.

I can only hope this thought I'm holding her in meets her somewhere in the world out there healthy, whole and happy. I have moved on with my life. But I'm not locking the door to a friendship with her, that seems as distant a possibility as all those beautiful memories we made.

March 8, 2002