Dear Henry,Wow. ItÃÂs been a year already, and here we are. ItÃÂs your birthday again. Happy seventeenth.
Do you remember last yearÃÂs party? We had a barbeque at your house, and watched that Saw movie. I had nightmares for three weeks afterwards. You were in some of them, but I canÃÂt recall what happened anymore.
I almost wore the same outfit I wore that day today, but then I remembered, and put on a different shirt. Same jeans, though, the ones with the sharpie stain on the left knee and paint marks on cuffs.
That was right before we became an official couple. I remember asking you what you wanted for your birthday, and you said, ÃÂA hundred hugs.ÃÂAnd then you changed your mind and said you wanted a hundred kisses instead, but I told you fifty hugs equals one kiss, so you would only get two.
You said that would be just fine.
We were in that flirt-flirt stage, as you so eloquently put it.
Can you remember the summer before tenth grade? ThatÃÂs two years ago. I think we were friends, and though we promised to hang out, nothing ever happened.
How about the summer before ninth? I hated your guts then. I hated you for what you did to me. I hated you because of our stupid middle school relationship.
But I especially hated you because even as a kid I couldnÃÂt keep you off my mind. In Civics class there was a poster of Prince Henry behind me, and every day it reminded me of you. Funny how I didnÃÂt notice it until we broke up. I think back to how we broke up for the first time and wasted two years of high school, when we could haveÃÂHow about the summer before that? You...