Dear February 6,

I hardly know how to write this letter.  12 years ago, you constituted what I still believe to be one of the happiest days of my life.  You marked the beginning of a new era.  A wonderful era.  Of course there were hard times, and I made a lot of bad choices, but you were always there, reminding us of the special bond that we shared.  And now, for these past few years, I've had to live with the ramifications of my worst choice and spend you by myself.  No one there to recognize the significance of you, to celebrate another year of friendship passed.  I want nothing more than to have you back, than to celebrate friendship (or more) once again.  It's consuming me and it's terrifying me.  And I have no clue what to do. 

Just know that I still mark your significance.  I spend you, February 6, thankful for the 10 years that we did have and praying for more in the future.  Praying that I haven't blown it one too many times.  Praying that this time next year, we might be celebrating together. 

I miss you more than words can possibly express.  It strikes me that I miss you a whole lot more than I miss Joe.  Which is how I know that I made a terrible terrible mistake a few years ago.  I am so sorry for not being there for you when you needed me most.  I don't know how to make up for that.  But I understand now what you were going through and I know that I didn't step up in the way that you needed.  And I am so so sorry.  But I would do anything to have you back.  To have this day back.  To be us again. 

Love always,
me