Lara I.

I used to write all the time.

I've been thinking about this one short story of mine I wrote a few years ago.

I've been trying to find it somewhere, because I'm really quite proud of it and it's kinda-sorta Christmas-y.

Me and B had another discussion about how we knew each other before I moved here. Every so often we try to gather evidence to prove, once and for all, which summer it was that he and I and my cousin and his other friend went surfing every morning. In my head, I think it was 1996, when I was twelve, but in his head, he thinks it was 1998, when he was twelve and I was fourteen. (Yes, I'm older than him...) I think I'm right. I think him being only ten explains a lot about why I barely remember anything about him - ten and twelve is a big difference, and I probably dismissed him as just a kid. I really don't think I was fourteen, because that would have been the summer right before I got hurt, and I have a very distinct memory of coming back here the next summer and my cousin having a job and nobody from the summer before being around and being really bored. And that wasn't the summer after I got hurt. So... it must be somewhere in between. Maybe it was 1997 and we're both wrong.

But besides that, we've pretty much concluded that we came in contact with each other even before that summer, cause he's been to more of the P's family picnics that I have, lol. We probably played soccer and capture the flag and stuff with each other when we were really little.

Memories are such strange things. I think it would be so fascinating to really remember one of those days, instead of just bits and flashes and concoctions my brain makes up to fill in the gaps. I think I should make a project of seeing if I can go through my aunt's pictures of her kids and see if I can find any of me and B in them. There have to be some. I might be starting to obsess over this... but those pictures, whatever they are, probably do exist. There are tons of pictures of me and Ryan at family get-togethers. If B was at a bunch of those, well, there are probably pictures of all of us.

And it seems so absurd that we didn't really recognize each other right away, or even for a while, and for a while I thought that he did recognize me and just didn't say anything because he knew I didn't recognize him, but he swears that isn't true. He swears I look different - or different enough, anyway, and I guess he does too. Well, of course he does. And of course I do. Nobody looks the same as they did when they were a kid.

Anyway. My cousin Ryan is coming home tomorrow, and I can't wait to see him. I mentioned to B that Ryan was coming home and now we're all supposed to hang out before Christmas. I'd really like to find those pictures like, now, but I guess that's not going to happen. It'd be cool, tho, to show them to the two of them.

I'm super excited. B isn't going to be around for Christmas - he's going to NY to visit his mom. But that's fine, because Ryan is sticking around for at least a few weeks. I love hanging around Ryan. Unfortunately, between the two jobs, I dunno how much time I'm actually going to have. But I'll make do with what I got!

I have turned twenty three now. Good for me. All this getting older, what an accomplishment it is!

I stayed at the print shop really late last night and got stuck in Philly. I could not get back to Camden; the only way would have been to take a cab and I, of course, didn't have the cash. I almost called Julia, cause she's really the only person I know here anymore, but then I thought I might go back to the print shop. By then I was kinda far from it, and had to walk all the way back there, but I did get back inside, although I was afraid I would trip some kind of security alarm. Maybe that sticker on the door is fake?

Anyway I spent the night there and it was fucking freezing cold. Gee, what an exciting life I lead, staying out all night and whatnot.