My Very First Cheque

Do you remember who you wrote your very first cheque to...well oddly enough I do. The reason that I know this is because I was recently reminded of this while shopping online.

It was a typical evening and I was doing some very last minute Christmas shopping online and decided on a whim that I would search for a perfume that I use to wear when I was 16. The reason I was searching for this online is because it had been discontinued here in Canada. Oddly enough I found this great site where I was able to buy it at a ridiculously low price and the shipping was free. It took about 2 weeks to arrive here and I have to say I was pretty excited to rip the box open and make sure that once I sprayed it I would love it all over again.

The minute I sprayed it I was so happy because it smelled even better than I had remembered and the bottle it came in was ultra-cute too. As I finished with one last spray I was reminded of the very first time I ever smelled it...

I was 16 and had just gotten a job working at Safeway as a cashier; after a couple of paycheques I decided that I would go out and buy myself something. I was walking through the mall after a shift in my lovely polyester Safeway uniform which consisted of red pants and white smock shirt...yes I worked there that long ago. I was strolling through The Bay and came across the perfume counter and decided that I needed a signature scent.

After smelling many different and popular scents I couldn't seem to find that "right one". I was about to give up when the sales lady came over and suggested Realities by Liz Clairborne. I had never heard of it but thought the bottle was too cute to pass up so I tried it and immediately knew that it was "The One". I was getting my wallet out to pay (keep in mind that there was no debit machines at this time) and realized that I didn't have enough cash on me and the bank was closed...then I spotted my brand new cheques, just sitting there waiting to be used. I asked the sales lady if I could write a cheque and she was unsure of this as at the time I didn't have a credit card (they use to write the credit card numbers on the back of the cheques). Luckily I was wearing my trusty Safeway uniform and she recognized it and because I worked in the mall just down the corridor and I was able to write my very first cheque. The cheque was made out for $50 and I walked out with my new signature scent. So there you have it the very first cheque that I ever wrote.

And finding Realities online again made me remember where it was that I wrote my very first cheque.

Take Time to Smell the Fruit

I went grocery shopping today and was in the produce section picked up a peach and brought it up to my nose to smell it...Mmmmmmm. I looked over to the left of the bulk peaches and there neatly stacked up and ready to go were baskets of peaches with the label ‘Grown in Ontario’ on it...I couldn't help but think "Hey, I use to pick those."

When I was living in Ontario in an area where growing fruit was very abundant, I took a job when I was younger picking fruit. What a job that was, we had to wear these harness things and attach our baskets to it and the whole purpose was to fill the basket. Once it was done we put our baskets on a pallet and then on a truck. Up and down ladders all day, picking the peaches was easy, once that was mastered we then had to pick cherries...it took forever to fill the baskets. The days were long and hard but well worth it. I'll never forget my time being a fruit picker; it was fun and was a great way to keep in shape. The best part was if I wanted a snack chances were pretty good that it was fresh fruit.

It was a good job, so the next time you go to the grocery store and see the basket of peaches think of me...picking them.

Full Circle

I got asked to sub on a ball team tonight in a league that I use to play in when I first moved here. I had forgotten how to get there, so I had to MapQuest it and get directions. En route everything was good and as I continued to follow the directions it all started to become familiar to me. Then as I turned the last corner into the residential area the memories flooded back to me...

It was 1998 and I was new to the city and didn't really know anyone who played ball but as luck would have it I found a team looking for a girl to play. So I grabbed my gear and headed out to play for this team of unknowns. Initially I was a little surprised as it was definitely a smaller league because there weren’t even fences or an infield where shale would normally be. Needless to say I played with this team for 2 years and in the second year we won the championship, I was totally stoked. But then in a turn of bad luck (depending on how you look at it) I no longer was able to play for the team and they dis-banded. Eventually I made my way to another league and found a much better team and league. I am grateful for the time I played in the smaller league but am much happier where I am.

Weird how all those memories came flooding back to me with one turn of a corner. I'll never forget my time there and as I continue to sub for this team as it makes me appreciate where I am today not only in ball but in life. 

Weird how life comes full circle.

Cutlass Supreme

I dropped my mom off today and as I was leaving an old car caught my eye. It was a two toned 1980's Cutlass Supreme. Immediately I was taken back to my youth as a friend of mine, Lisa drove this exact same car. I couldn't help but laugh a little to myself because I'm about to tell you a story which could only happen to me.

It was the spring of '91 and I had made a new friend from my volleyball team, turned out she was a cousin on my dad's side. Her name was Lisa and she had just moved back to town from the big city. I soon discovered that Lisa was a lot of fun and knew a lot of what I might call 'people I wouldn't normally hang out with.'

As a normal 16 year old, I was going through all of the angst that any red blooded teenager goes through. I made the bright decision to skip school and go to visit a friend of Lisa's. The plan was to tell our parents we had a volleyball tournament so that we could skip school and then head out to a neighbouring city about 2 hours away. So we went ahead with the plan and all seemed well until we got there. I know initially this doesn't sound all that big of a deal, however Lisa's friend was an inmate and not only was I skipping school but I was driving 2 hours out of town to go to a maximum security jail. Right about now is when my mom is cringing because I don't think I've ever told her this before. Sorry to break it to you like this mom, but you'll be happy to know I've learned a lesson from this.

(Back to the story...)

It was so weird because I had never been to a jail before, we had to go through a metal detector (like at the airports), get frisked (I think the cop enjoyed this more than I did) and finally all of our belongings were out on display for all to see (did I mention I carry tampons with me??) After being humiliated we met with her friend behind a wall of bullet proof glass. Apparently contact is not permitted. (That's ok, by this time I was too freaked out to want to shake hands.)

 After our timed visit was over and we left one of the scariest places I have ever been in my life we headed for home. On our way home we chatted about how we had fooled our parents and our plan was a success...no sooner did we say that and there it was right in front of us...my dad's truck. On a 4 lane highway 2 hours away from home my dad, brother and grandfather were here. How could this be??? Immediately I ducked down thinking no one saw me...

All the way home I couldn't think of a lie good enough to tell my parents, Lisa said that they would never catch on and that the volleyball tournament was still the story she was sticking with. The 2 hour drive home was probably the longest and most agonizing ride of my life.

 Needless to say my parents found out, I got grounded and to this day until now my mom only knew that I was in another city. Yes, not one of my shining moments, was it smart...no. But at least it cured me of EVER committing a serious crime.

Who Wants a Pink Car...I Want a Pink Car

On my leisure stroll with the dog, I happened to see a part of my past staring me in the face. I had to do a double take to ensure that it really truly was a piece of my history. There in the 7-11 parking lot sat a 1996 Chevy Cavalier Z22, not just any Cavalier...it was a Pink Cavalier, or as the dealership described it on the bill of sale, 'Raspberry.'

It was the fall of '96 and I was itching for a new ride. I was sick of my Corsica and decided that I would buy a new Cavalier; it was the year the new body style came out. After going into the dealership and narrowing it down to two doors, my last decision was the colour. It was either red or pink. The common sense part of my brain said red, but as you all know common sense is not so common. After weighing the pro's and cons, I decided on pink. My rationale, well growing up in a small town everyone I knew had a red car. I decided that people would be able to recognize me in my pink car. Boy was I right!

People who were looking for me would see my car and know exactly where I was. As time went on this became more of a curse than a blessing. If you think living in a small town sucks, try living in a small town driving the only pink car. If people didn't know what I was doing they didn't have to look very far to find out. This started to really annoy me, as I am a very private person and don’t like everyone knowing my business.

After the car was paid off, I made the conscience decision to sell it or trade it in...Fortunately I was able to sell the car for more of a profit than the dealership was going to give me on trade in. I honestly didn’t think I was going to sell it; but low and behold I found another person who wanted a pink car. It was a young gal; who thought the pink was too cute to pass up…I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she should get ready for everyone to know her business. As I watched my pink car drive away, I walked over to my new shiny silver car and thought “…what’s so special about this car?” Then it dawned on me…I can blend in anywhere and no one will be the wiser.

Despite all the grief I got about buying a pink car, given the option I would probably do it again.

Wanna Sub?

Tonight in a panic I was asked to sub for another ball team. I decided I would help them out because I'm sure if we asked them for a sub they would help us out.

I kind of had a chuckle as during the regular season we are mortal enemies yet when push comes to shove we will help each other out in a pinch.

It's kind of like an all-star game we can collectively play together as a team, yet we dawn our home teams colours. And it's surprising just how well we play together and we have a great time and really bond. But when game time is over we all head our separate ways and await our next game against each other. Knowing full well that despite our connection we are still vying for the same trophy and in the end still enemies...that is until one of us needs a sub.

Being a Tomboy

I don't think I had a choice in the matter. I am the oldest of three children and my dad raised me as the son he hadn't had yet. Also all my older cousins were guys, who use to make me block shots (with a real puck) with no equipment. It was either sink or swim for me and I decided to swim.

As time went on and I got older, I continued to play co-ed sports, work on the farm and take jobs that would make me a stronger and wiser person. In time I did things that would help me to be well rounded. Such as driving a 4-wheeler (or quad) that was a manual transmission. I would look after the horses when need be. I did hay when it was hay season. I learned how to drive a stick shift and hit a line drive in softball. All these things add up to one common thing, being a tomboy. But that's not all that I am, I am also a girl who likes wearing make-up, dressing up to go out, getting my hair done, getting mani's and pedi's. There are so many other girly things that I like, but knowing that I'm also a tomboy is a good thing. It seems to keep me balanced; I'm not too much of one or the other. I like being who I am because it gives me the confidence to do all those things some women are scared of, like laying sod, building a fence or even public speaking. I believe all the experience I got from being a tomboy has given me more courage to do more things myself but more importantly independence. I can stand on my own two feet and do all the things guys can do, only better because I will read the instructions or take my time because I am after all the woman who built it right?

Is It Really Worth It?

On my way to work I can't help but sing along to Rick Springfield's 'Jessie's Girl', it was playing on my satellite radio and I can't wait to see what song will come up next.

I got my satellite radio as a gift about 4 years ago and didn't quite understand the whole concept of it. At first I was a little unimpressed that I got a new electronic gadget for my car...woo hoo.

I honestly had never heard of satellite radio before, I had no clue of what it meant or even how to work it. After doing a little research and discovering that there was a monthly fee associated with it, I almost threw the towel in. I decided to give it a try, one because it was a gift and two because it was commercial free.

After the installation, which my very handy boyfriend did for free I discovered the satellite radio's potential. I was able to discover the different channels, the different genres of music, the ability to save my favourite songs and the radio will prompt me when they come on. The variation in the songs and I even discovered that I can get the score of a game without actually watching (or in my case listening) to it...but the absolute best part was being commercial free.

How is it I lived so long without knowing about this lovely device?? I mean really I guess it was only a matter of time before they came out with this...I mean how many times have you sat through a television show and wished there were no commercials? I mean I personally own a PVR to deal with that problem, but that's a whole other conversation. Anyhow I am now an addict to my satellite radio, I've been using my boyfriend's car and sadly he doesn't have satellite radio in this vehicle...I've been forced to listen to regular radio and I have to say it S-U-C-K-S! So for all you people out there if you enjoy music as much as I do, do yourself a favour by getting satellite radio and paying the monthly fee and if you get two like we did you save yourself a whole heck of a lot of money but it's so very worth it to get commercial free music.

Turning the Big 3-Oh!

Today is my girlfriend’s birthday and she has just turned 30. She's been in a state of depression about it all week. It's all we've heard about for days. The funny thing is she has no clue of what to expect. Her main complaint is wrinkles, sagging and getting old. The way she describes it is like she's Cinderella and when the clock strikes midnight on the morning of her birthday she's going to be an old sagging, wrinkled hag. I just shake my head and laugh at her because she is missing all the good things that happen when you turn 30.

When I hit 30, it's like a light bulb went off in my head. It's like I knew what I wanted, I knew where I wanted to be and I knew who I wanted to be. We struggle all through our twenties trying to "find ourselves" and once we do we don't know what to do with our "new found self." The reason being is that we don't have the experience or knowledge yet to take the next step to get us where we want to be. We need those life experiences to help guide us in the right directions. I couldn't imagine being where I am now, without going through what I did in my twenties. If you don't feel that there is any merit to what I am saying, why is it people in their 30's always say "I wish I knew now when I as 20." It's because life would've been easier, but then they wouldn't be the person they are today without their life lessons. I mean really looking back on it would you want to miss out on all of our life experiences...no neither would I. 

I say we keep doing what we're doing because we are like fine wine; we only get better with age!

Cottage Season is Here!

You know driving down the highway when you pass all the trucks towing their boats, sea doo's, jet skis and water tubes that it's Cottage Season.

It's that time of the year to dust off the cobwebs, sweep off the deck and hose down the lawn furniture. It's when we gather our thoughts of what needs to be done in the garden and who's going to put the boat and hoist in. It takes weekend after weekend of planning, but come mid-summer as you're entertaining 40 guests you to realize it was all worth it. It's these times that make it special and so memorable. We wish they could last forever...but before we know it we're pulling in the boats, hoists and docks. Packing away all the lawn furniture and emptying the flower pots. Because summer is over.

So I recommend to everyone, get out there and enjoy cottage season!

Is There Such a Thing as Camping Too Early?

The trees (sadly) are just starting to bud out here. Spring is finally on its way. Driving down the tree lined street with all the teeniest little buds poking their way out of the branches, making their first appearance of the year. I was taken back to a memory when a girlfriend and I couldn't wait to go camping. I think it was May 1st and we decided it would be in our best interest to go camping. Little did our significant others know about this until they came home to a packed vehicle ready to tackle the wilderness.

We packed everything, wood, stoves, sweaters, shoes, alcohol, cards, games, sleeping bags, Jell-O shooters...you get the drift. After an hour of driving we arrived at our campsite, we set up our tents, BBQ, stoves, food storage etc, we were ready. We decided we were going to have a look see at the rest of the die-hard campers and see what new camping friends we could make. To our dismay we were it, except for the veteran campers who happened to be in a trailer. (Little did we know how smart they were.)

After some frivolity, Jell-O shots, food and more Jell-O shots, night fell and we soon realized that it was damn cold. Even with all the liquor we'd ingested we were still freezing. Despite our layer after layer of clothing and burning of about 7 bags of wood we were still a little cold. We collectively (in our drunken stupor) decided that we would drink more alcohol, stoke the fire and sleep in the back of our SUV's. 

Even the best laid plans get ruined because by the time it was bed time we were too drunk to care and we were all bundled up pretty good. I believe that was the first and only time I slept with a toque on. We decided that 4 bodies in a 4 person tent was better than 2 in an SUV...Hmmm???? After the debacle of all 4 of us crawling into the tent, laughing, more laughing, pee breaks and then finally sleeping, we awoke to dare I say it...SNOW!!!

Despite our best efforts we could not beat Mother Nature. We packed up our gear and went to the nearest hotel...with a hot tub and enjoyed the rest of our first weekend of the year camping. My one piece of advice...NEVER go camping in Alberta before the May long weekend, unless you know of a good hotel with a hot tub.

Being Replaced

How is it in the workplace we know at the drop of a hat we are replaceable, yet in our personal lives that thought never crosses our mind?

When we meet someone and it turns into a relationship we think that it'll be forever. But when forever turns into 25 years short of that, we go our separate ways and move on. We live day to day completely oblivious, until that one day we find out he/she has found someone else. We think to ourselves how is this possible, I was everything that he/she wanted? That statement right there is what I'm talking about. How could I be replaced? We have this skewed vision on ourselves and feel that no one can take our place. Yet every day at work we are on our toes knowing full well that we can be replaced. So why can't we carry this very helpful information forward with us in our personal lives? We know when we leave a job; we will assist in training our replacement. So why is it so hard in our personal lives to accept that we will eventually be replaced?

We work so hard in our lives to try and be the best we can be but somewhere along the way we forget ourselves and try to tailor who we are for someone we think they (either he/she) want us to be. Our view of reality becomes a facade which we must work very hard at keeping up. The line between reality and fantasy becomes very fine, which then leads me to the inevitable question..."When can I be replaced?" Which should then lead us to the inevitable answer...I wasn't happy with who I'd become. It's no wonder I was replaced. So as we ponder this very simple explanation we have to chuckle to ourselves and say when it really matters, I won't care if I'm replaced just as long as I don't lose myself in the process.

Film vs. Digital

Remember back in the "olden days" when we would look through the eye piece of a camera and would take a picture? When the film was done, it would automatically rewind and we would take the film into the photo shop to be developed. As the days passed we would eagerly be anticipating the arrival of our developed film…only to be disappointed that we didn’t get the “perfect shot”.

With the digital age upon us we're lucky if we print any pictures at all. I too have fallen victim of the lightning fast shutter, the inhumanly amount of memory and last of all the instant gratification. There is definitely something to be said about the last feature mentioned, because really when it comes right down to it we all want to look our best in pictures. We want to be able to look back and say to our grandchildren "See, I was hot". But in saying that, there is no more anticipation, nothing to look forward to. So in turn because we've been satisfied with seeing how great the photos look we neglect to get the pictures printed and put into an album. And should the camera or memory card get into the wrong hands they could be lost forever. Because really let’s face it who has the time and energy to get them organized on the computer? No one. So we go along forgetting about all of those memories, stored away in the teeniest tiniest little piece of technology.

I wish I could say something bad about the digital, but I can't. I am a part of the problem...partially I am still a little old school because I do go through my photos, organize them on the computer, print them, save them and even back them up. I am one of the few people who do that. So my plea to you all is to enjoy all the perks of digital, but please don't forget to print those memories. So you can go back anytime you want and go through an album as opposed to going through the camera. It's a little bit of old school in the digital world.

Returning Home

There is something so bittersweet about heading home from vacation. Part of you longs for the comforts of home and the other part of you wants to stay on vacation.

Here I sit in a crowded airport in a foreign country to which I have never been before; waiting patiently and a little anxiously for my flight to start boarding. I wonder (feeling a little guilty) why am I so eager to get back home? I don't have to wait very long to get my answer...my bed, my clothes, my family, my friends and most of all food that I am familiar with. All the comforts of home, that you don't realize you miss until their not available.

I'm sure most everyone is like me, vacationing is fun but after 7-10 days I want to go home. I don't like living out of a suitcase, having a limited amount of clothing, accessories and shoes. I need to have the variety of food choices that seem to be very limited when you’re on vacation. If I want to go and crack open a box of say, Kraft Dinner; then I know that I can go to my pantry and it’ll be there; but on vacation chances are it’s not available. Even something as small as water pressure; I miss the feeling of the shower pelting me in the face telling me to “wake up”. I know it sounds trivial; but it’s what I’m familiar with and I think that is one of the reasons that I am looking forward to going home.

I don't know how people travel all over the world all the time and not go stir crazy. I need a place to "hang my hat" if you will, a place to call my own. I like the feeling of knowing what to expect when I arrive home.

Home...here I come; I believe my flight is now boarding.

One Month

It's been exactly a month today that it happened. The morning I got the frantic phone call from my boyfriend, telling me that his Aunt had killed herself. Shock, horror, disbelief was all that I was feeling. I couldn't believe this was happening, this just seemed a little too Alfred Hitchcock for me.

After the initial shock work off, I couldn't stop asking myself how this could happen. Don't get me wrong I am not a sheltered person and understand most things in life, but for the life of me I couldn't grasp this one. I had known about her depression as did the rest of the family. The thing we didn't know was how to help her through her bouts. How do you help someone when you don't understand what they are going through?

We had no idea she was that bad, bad enough to sink to the depths of taking her own life. It breaks my heart to think that she was feeling that bad, no one should ever feel that way. I mean I've lost loves before and felt bad, I've lost people in my life before and felt bad. There were days that I didn't want to get out of bed because I was that sad, but that's as bad as I got. So I couldn't even fathom how depressed she was to come to the realization that taking her own life was the only way out. It really does rattle me to the core to think this because I don't think anyone should ever feel this way. But because this is a disease that no one really understands, we can't stop it.

Initially I was quite upset, actually down right mad. But then I went to her service and realized that she was a victim of disease. It's a terrible thing, I thought long and hard if there was anything that I could've done to help her battle this demon that she lived so long with. But came up empty handed, because I realized no matter how hard we try we can only lead a horse to water, but we can't make them drink.

In saying that, I do so hope that she's found the peace that she’s been looking for all of her life. Despite our beliefs or our disagreeing with the circumstances, this was her choice. A choice that she made, don't you think we should accept that?

Making New Friends As We Age

Recently at dinner with girlfriends discussing the trials and tribulations of life, we stumbled upon a topic that happens to be near and dear to my heart...making new friends as we age, why is it so hard?

Why is it as we get older, we very seldom make new friends? Initially this topic struck me as odd, because I continually join new things and meet new people all the time. But they are not my lifelong friends with bonds that take a life time to build. And then it dawned on me, that these new people that I meet are teammates, colleagues, summer acquaintances, not true blue friends. So why is that?

I know that time is a major player in this. We just don't have the time. We can hardly make the time to socialize with the people we do know, how would we fit in the time for someone we hardly know?

I've also noticed with the older crowd, they plain and simple don't want any more friends. I don't know if those words will ever leave my mouth because I love meeting new people and learning all about them. I think I'm secretly dreaming about having a 'G-rated, after school special' ending. Sadly I've never had a "Very Best Friend" since childhood. I moved a lot, making it almost impossible to keep in touch with people. I was too young to understand the meaning of BFF's.

But as I've aged, I've been able to (with the help of Facebook) rekindle old friendships. But I've also realized that we need all kinds of friends for different reasons. We need a friend who will always be our shoulder to cry on. We need a friend that always makes us laugh. We need a friend who makes us courageous, a friend who will tell us the truth when we need to hear it. A friend who we look up to, a friend who brings out the best in us, a friend who when you look at her will know exactly what you're thinking, a friend who we adore, a friend who would do anything for us, a friend who is patient, kind, understanding and most of all integral. After reading this list, I now know why it is so hard to make new friends as we age...our demands are too high. (kidding)

Despite that I will continue to make new friends, acquaintances, whatever you want to call them because in the end, I'll just call them new found friends.

Generation Why??

I recently finished taking another part time course and was eerily reminded of the last course I took. Both instructors advised us that as a society we should all learn about the 'Gen Y'. That our world is changing and that we'd better change with it. It was odd how both instructors mentioned this even though neither course has anything to do with the other.

Don't get me wrong, I think there is merit to this advice, but I think that there is a very large learning curve being missed here. It's great that we "other generations" are learning about the 'Gen Y's', but what about them? Don't you think that it is important for them to learn about all the other generations out there? I asked this very same question in both classes and was surprised to hear that it's not as important for them to learn about us as it is for us to learn about them. That "this is the way the world is going". I understand that we all hop on the "Way the World is Going" bandwagon. But in order to move forward, don't we need to know where we're coming from?

These kids are our futures; they will be the ones who will be making all the tough decisions in this world, the ones who will be shaping the world that we live in. And honestly from what I've seen so far, I'm not sure they know what they're doing...

I'm a 'Gen-Xer', the supposed bridge between the 'Baby Boomers' and the 'Gen Y's'. I've seen the old and I've seen the new...I can't really say I'm all that thrilled about the new. It's odd because I am on the cusp of being a 'Gen Y'; but I can relate more to the 'Baby Boomers'. I can't for the life of me figure out how these kids (who will be driving the market) have no respect for anyone. It's like it's instilled into them, they have no initiative, no purpose. They always need to be near an electronic device at all times. They text message each other while they're in the same room...I think communicating is too much work. I honestly can't put all the blame on them, they were raised that way. Their parents had to work for everything they got and decided that their children would never have to work as hard as they did; inevitably creating lazy, entitled and socially stunted kids.

Don't get me wrong, these 'little brats' have also done good things too. They've brought balance back to our lives, something we all need. They also upped the ante in the education department. They are smart kids when they want to be. They are also forward thinkers, enabling us to solve problems and come up with new ideas faster than in the past. But they still need to know where they are coming from before they can move ahead. They need to learn from all the mistakes that previous generations made, so that they don't make the same ones. This will give them a sense of accomplishment and self-worth.

There is so much potential here for these kids, I really hope they take the time to learn about generations past so that we aren't asking ourselves down the road...Generation Why???

Losing a Friend

To my dismay a few days ago I received an email from a friend ending our friendship. We had been friends for 10 years and met through an ex-boyfriend. The first time I met Amy we didn't exactly hit it off, but as time went on we soon discovered that we shared a lot of common interests. We eventually started hanging out every weekend and talking on the phone every night, discussing how we were going to beat the boys at cards. Every Friday and Saturday night we would stay up until 2 or 3 in the morning laughing the night away.

As time went on we drifted a little but still managed to keep in touch and get together as often as we could. But then something changed, I was no longer dating her husband's lifelong friend and the wedge between us grew. We both made feeble attempts at keeping the friendship alive, but we both knew in our hearts this wasn't going to last.

Sadly it was a very small misunderstanding that broke us apart. But it was reason enough for her to decide to end it. Reading her letter brought me to tears, just knowing that she wasn't going to be in my life anymore made me want to cry even more. I've never cried before when a friendship has ended. I don't know how to explain it but there was a very special (unspoken) bond with Amy that I've never had with anyone before. I don't know if I will ever be able to have that again with a friend...

It makes me sad every time I think about her not being just a phone call away. I have tried reaching out to her but have gotten no response. I have no choice but to respect her wishes and move on...without her.

I know that I can't go back in time, but maybe, just maybe in the future our paths will be intertwined again. For now I wish her nothing but happiness; and hopefully this will only be a "So long for now my dear dear friend Amy".