when i was nine,
you punched the guy who
stole my teddy bear. that's how
we first met. i shared my peanut
butter and jelly sandwich with
you at lunch, because it was the
only way i knew how to say thanks.

when i was thirteen,
your family used to come over
to our house, and we'd have
dinner together. my parents,
your parents; my brother, your
sister. you and me.

when i was fourteen,
i dated a boy three years older
than we were. you were always
worried that something would happen,
you didn't trust him. i never knew
it was because you loved me.
you were right.

when i was fifteen,
my boyfriend hit me. he punched me
because he thought i was flirting
with a friend. he drove me, unconscious,
to a hospital, but we crashed into
another car. he was drunk. your
parents and mine were in that car.
your dad died, and so did both my parents.
i never knew so much pain.

when i was seventeen,
we dated for a while, but then
you went away. you never called,
never answered my calls. it was like you
disappeared from the face of the earth.
i lost my best friend, i lost the boy i loved.

when i was twenty-one,
i met you at a masquerade party
thrown by one of our friends. you didn't
recognize me. i found out you were
in a car accident, and you'd lost your memory.
we started again, from the beginning.

when i was twenty-two,
we fell in love all over again.
you started to remember little things
from the past, but to me you were always
the same parker i had always known.
the same parker i fell in love with.

when i was twenty-three,*
you asked me to marry you.
i said yes. but people are people,
and sometimes we change our minds.
i remember crying, pressing the ring
into your palm, telling you i couldn't do this.

when i was twenty-four,
our best friends got married. i met
you at the wedding, and we decided to
give it another shot. it worked, and we
finally, finally tied the knot.

when i was twenty-five,
we had our first child. he was a handful.
you were a doctor, i was a lawyer.
both busy, both new to this life.
we had our first fight at 2.33am,
and i ran out of the house. you followed me,
and told me i'd never be alone. i believed you.

now, i'm twenty-seven.
we had another child, a beautiful girl.
but you're never home. your
job keeps you out till late at night,
and i never know where you are.
i saw you at the grocery store, with
another woman. i was upset, i accused
you without even knowing what was
going on. i was wrong. i told you
i wanted a divorce. the look on your face
made my heart break.

i regret it. i regret everything.
but if i could go back in time
and meet you again, knowing
i would end up losing you, i would
still choose to love you, because
loving you was worth losing you.
we were always parkerandlissa,
neither complete without the other.

i'm so so sorry,
and i will miss you.