meow
2:52 p.m.

Sometimes I wonder about you. I wouldn't go so far as to call your old house to ask your parents where you are now. But I've looked your name up on the internet, hoping I'd find you somewhere. You weren't there.

Sometimes I wish I'd run into you somewhere. After all, I've stayed around this metro area - it's possible you could've, too. But it would have to be a good day. One of those days where I look really swell and my hair is just right and my outfit hugs all the right curves. One of those days, you know? So I could feel really good about myself. You would recognize me first and I'd pause for a second, trying to recollect your face. Of course, I'd know it was you instantly - I couldn't forget your face or your voice. But I'd pretend, just for a few seconds, so you wouldn't think I was just waiting for the moment I'd run into you again. I'd act real nonchalant as we talked, going through that whole awkward "So what have you been up to the last six years?" conversation. I wouldn't give out any clue that I still remembered "those" days, deep in my heart. The days of us.

And when we parted with that equally awkward good-bye I'd simply reply, "Good-bye...Kitty."

And in that one word, you'd know that I still remembered.

Kitty.

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