1st of September, 2009

Today would have been our 2 year anniversary. I would have been messaging you things that were mushy and lovey dovey and made plans to take you to dinner and have a sleepover and bought you something beautiful and cuddled you to death and loved you an immeasurable amount.

I have no idea what you are doing now. I don't know who you see. I don't really remember your voice. Your face seems to be detatching piece by piece in my head, and the pieces are going missing so I don't quite remember it until i see the photos I can't quite seem to be able to delete just yet.

We broke up in January. It it now September. I never really thought I was in love with you. I guess this proves otherwise. I don't regret us, and I don't want you back nor would I ever plan to date you again. But I do miss the girl I met in Year 12, who stalked my locker, who's best friends used to go "beep beep beep beep" when I walked past, when I stomped my way around the common room knowing that you could hear me, and watching you at school events, stalking your facebook, and being called Nym.

I have never felt quite as beautiful as I felt around you. My long brown hair was our favourite thing about me. I now have short white hair. I dressed up in florals and flats and danced my way around your house naked and watched Scrubs in the summer with bowls of bean mix spagetti.

I still don't know quite what went wrong between us. I think it will always be something I will never understand, never want to understand and never endeavour to understand.

You were the love of my life when I was 17, turning 18 and throughout my 19th year. You were charming, and awkward, and shy, and cute, and full of joy and adoration for me when we first met. Tonight would have been 2 years since making out at the seats in circular Quay, being given a rose by you (which you then took home yourself), catching the bus home from Chatswood while texting you saying "I've made up my mind. You're mine. ps. thanks for the rose".

I'm getting teary writing this.

I look forward to the day when September equals Spring and the start of a new part of the year - not Isobel, an anniversary, a lost love and naked summer days filled with the first girl I fell for.

Happy 2nd year anniversary pudding. I think I still love you.