1. Becky. Remember me? We played Barbies in the bush outside my house when we were little girls, six and seven years old. We were besties, and I loved you more than anything. I still do. I remember more about you and me together than I do about my own birthday. We climbed the tree in the backyard, the one the crazy cat climbed whenever he could escape, and I pulled out my pink Precious Moments Bible, and we talked about Jesus. You never professed Christ, but you loved Him -- which should have shocked me, considering the family you grew up in, the pressures you had. Do you still love Jesus? Do you still believe He loves you? I know we moved away and your mother said we could no longer be friends -- a long time ago, a time when I cried my heart out a hundred times into the pillow -- but I'm going to find you again. I promise.
2. Boy Who Professed His Love for Me. Conveniently I have forgotten your name, and I pray God you've forgotten mine. May we never run across any Christmas newsletters of each other. But you asked, and you require an answer, albeit twelve years late: no, I do not love you. I'm sorry. My answer was less-than-clear (my daddy was in the front seat of the car, for Pete's sake!), but it was no then too. Hopefully the passing years have quieted your six-year-old crush. Go in peace.
3. The Walmart Cashier Lady Who Called Me Hon and Liked My Long Hair. I wish you knew how much I appreciate when people strike up conversations with me; I only regret that I do not possess the ability to speak in kind. You see, I have this self-conscious complex that forbids me from saying anything coherent for about five minutes after being addressed by a stranger. It wasn't your fault that I answered everything with a slightly dopey grin. It's just that I don't recall the details of when I last cut my hair. Now that I think about it, I could have rambled on about how I have to tie it up at night so I don't strangle myself or how there's a very real danger of it getting caught in the portable fan or my newfound skill of French braiding or how my sisters all have really long hair too. Please believe that I really am witty and charming -- once I've had a couple days to think about it.
4. The Crabby College Students Who Administered My SAT Test. I forgive you. If I wasn't going to Hillsdale College, I'd be crabby too.
5. The Girl Who Thinks She's Not Good Enough. Come here, sweetheart. We'll get through this together.
*Post inspired by Emily Rachelle @ Blog of a (Maybe) Teen Author. If I could say anything to her? She's awesome.
WHAT'S YOUR FIVE?