Phonecalls and voicemails.

I listen to the playlist saved on my computer from the one night we made your mix CD. Such beautiful sad music. So you can only imagine how I feel listening to it without you here to sing along. But I'm getting better at not missing you to the point where I end up crying myself to sleep on the floor. Of course I'll always miss you, best friend, soul mate. It is because of you that this music means so much to me. Next to photographs, these songs are the closest thing to a time machine. So when I want to go back and feel exactly the way I did all these past summer nights when we sat on private beach cliffs at high tide under a full moon, when we stood outside your back door and whispered secrets under the stars, when you picked me up because I locked myself out of my car, when we cried together in an empty parking lot the night before you had to leave.

For now I have to settle for "baby"s "kiddo"s and "I love you"s through satellite sound waves.

--Lauren

[what was ... what will be]