See

Laughing over dinner and I just can't help but smile- a basket full of pita chips and all of a sudden I am seventeen again and starry-eyed with the world.  In my head I dance through sprinklers and jump in midnight waves and only slowly does reality sink in.
Split it, please.
They just don't understand, they really just don't understand what it was like to grow up here, do they.  Silly girl to mix a new york team with an island shirt, silly boy to not see the merit of walks over virtual reality; the silly silly people we settled for.  But for one of us there is a white fairy tale, and for the other only golden-brown eyed dreams.
You really should come stay.
Frowning you shake your head in disbelief, why will I not simply submit, publish, share with the world?  But ahh, I was never the public writer.  You are the open philosopher, I hide away in my own little corner of anonymity and use my words to lick my wounds. 
It's really been nice seeing you.
Do you remember?  There were ten CD's, stacked in my car with a note that made me leak happy tears.  Later you called and asked about the surprise, yes I had found it, yes Dylan makes my heart sing too.  Months and months and long letters growing shorter and fewer between, and still the soundtrack of heartbreak set to a cracked voice.  You've gained weight now, and I have too.  Your beard hides your chin-a shame for all of womankind really.  My dreams haven't turned to you in years, and yet behind all of my broken shame and despair you seem to know how to say it all without words.  Not for us, perhaps, but for me.  So I slide out of a bear-hug and skip my way back up icy steps-just like a living memory. 
Until next time.