Happy Birthday, Dearest

So it’s finally July 22.

 Forgiveness is not something we do for other people. It’s something we do for ourselves to move on. But I remember so much.

I remember pretending we were puppies that were abandoned by our parents and one of us would run away from the other, thinking that the other was ignoring us only to be brought back and reassured of our love.

I remember  pretending we were Xanya and Manic or Sonic.

I remember waiting for you while you were at school and eagerly jumping out of the car to greet you.

I remember you running away from my hugs because I hugged too tight and too long and wouldn’t let you go.

I remember Lassie and Goldie and Chocolate and Dallas and Wags and the rest of our stuffed dog family.

I remember arriving at your house so late at night that you’d already be asleep and I’d sneak into your room and crawl into bed next to you, cuddling you and just breathing you in.

I remember Polly Pocket(those rubber dresses with the glitter that wouldn’t come off) and Littlest Pet Shop(Ribbon) and our miniatures and all the drama our dolls seemed to have.

I remember constantly cleaning your playroom or your normal room and not thinking it was a chore just because we made it a huge game.

I remember mixing our ice cream with pop.

I remember our eight hour long phone conversations and acting like a boyfriend and girlfriend and saying, “No, you hang up!” “No, it’s your turn!” “No, I did it last time. You hang up.” “Why me? I can’t bear to do it, you hang up.” And being actually serious about not being able to bear it.

I remember fantasizing about what it would be like if we were sisters. Which of our parents we’d keep: your mom and my dad. What pets we’d have: Arwen and a shetland sheepdog. What school we’d go to, what friends we’d have…

I remember teaching you piano and you teaching me guitar and playing duets together.

I remember setting up our music in a public bathroom and crawling over the stalls and sitting on top of the walls.

I remember water fights  and the slip and slide and the crazy daisy.

I remember our yellow fellow made-up language.

I remember dropping one of those bricks on your foot accidentally when we were in the pool and you getting so mad at me.

I remember our constant fights about nothing and hating each other and kicking and clawing and freezing each other out only to be best friends again two minutes later, honestly forgetting our whole fight.

I remember trading off bikes as we rode to the library and seeing that creepy cat statue in the window on the way back.

I remember macaroni and sherbet and sliding down banisters at nanay and tatay’s and borrowing your clothes all the time and you taking after whatever I liked at the moment(“Immensely amusing”, high school musical, Naruto, too many bands to list).

I remember you quoting off HP to me word for word and the old tire swing in your ravine and hiding you in my car when we were going back to the States or hiding me in obscure places in your house and you having a birthday party every year and me never missing a single one.

I’m sorry that I had to miss this one. I’m sorry that you weren’t at my sweet sixteen or that I couldn’t tell you the speech I made about you for it. I’m sorry I tried to forget about you. I’m sorry that our promise was broken of never having another quiet time and that I’m not sure anything can ever be normal again.

I would do anything to hold you again, do anything to go back to the way we were, but I am so sorry.

I love you so much.

Happy birthday, Gabby.