Letter To A Long Lost Friend

Dear Stephanie,

I was at the grocery store Saturday and ran into Charlie Crocker. So good to see him! He mentioned that you two are still in contact and gave me your address so I thought I'd Send you a letter to see how you're doing. He also mentioned you'd recently split from your husband. I'm sorry to hear that but I suppose everything happens for a reason. Think of it as an opportunity.

Are you still painting? I remember thinking you would one day be a celebrated artist. So much talent! We would sit on that rickety wood bench outside the principal's office and you would narrate your drawings in cartoon voices, expressing your dreams, fears and ridiculously sharp humor! I really miss that.

I think you had the best friend group! You seemed to draw people who were outsiders with wonderful character, really taking life as a gift. I always wished I was closer to you, but it must have been hard to juggle so many friends. I never took offense, I just enjoyed those moments we shared and how open you were with me. I've always wondered if it bothered you when I hooked up with your best friend Charlotte at the kegger. I guess I've secretly hoped it did. I know, it's childish to use jealousy as a dating tactic but, hey, we were all young once, right? Anyway, if you were a bit jealous I would take it as a compliment.

Did you hear Ricky Petersen died? Man, that hit me hard. I saw him earlier that very day. I knew he was troubled, he shared a lot of his darkest thoughts with me, but it's still difficult to process. I suppose you can never really know someone even when you sit facing them at after-school detention week after week. His service was touching. I noticed you were not there. It surprised me to be honest, you two dated for quite a while. It can be hard to face situations like that, I know. My wife passed away just a few months after we married. I didn't go to her funeral. Her name was Stephanie too. Coincidence? I'm just kidding. She didn't die, she just left me for her pelatess instructor: she did seem to be doing a lot of pelates, 5, 6 times a week. But she IS dead to me. And her name WAS Stephanie..

Over the years I've pretty much been puttering around, same job, same car: remember when I drove you to the mall in the Hyundai because you hadn't gotten your license yet but you really wanted to meet up with Ricky at his job at the Hot Topic? I ran out of gas in the parking lot and had to push the car while you steered. I don't think I've ever seen you so alive. We went to the food court and got Sbarro and laughed and talked so long that by the time you got to the Hot Topic, Ricky had left. I drove you back home and we listened to REM Automatic For The People all the way through, after we'd reached your driveway. Your dad was SO friggin' mad at us! The windows were fogged up and he thought we were making out! You got out and stormed past him and I took off like I was driving the General Lee! I suspect you were too smart NOT to notice the gas tank had miraculously refilled itself while we were at the mall. I appreciate you playing along.

It's funny, in my mind you have always been that young, vibrant girl as I have aged a year for each one that passes. Eternal youth, but only in memories. That's some deep s**t, there. The kind of stuff we would talk about over a joint the summer before you moved away. I'm sure you have grown lovelier with time and experience has deepened your keen perspective.

That is all, I guess. Just wanted to reach out an connect with a kindred spirit. To quote West Of Eden, "May tomorrow's tomorrow be as yesterday's yesterday." We took turns reading it to each other Memorial Day weekend at the campground, remember? Re-read it lately, so good!

Well, goodbye for now, m'lady. If you feel the urge to reach back, my address is on the envelope.

Mr, Callaghan (Your high school guidance Councillor)

...Don't stand so...don't stand so...don't stand so close to me...