Carry on my wayward daughter.

It’s Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you all, then.

I become very introspective on Christmas. Not sure why. Always been that way though.

I used to read a blog called “Wayward Daughter.” It was written by a lovely girl named Cait and she lived in Edinburgh…now that sounds like a story, doesn’t it?

I had a friend who lived in Edinburgh, Scotland. Her name was Caitlin.

She wore pretty dresses and drank loose-leaf tea and she lived with a man who was only a shadow in some of photographs. She would write to me, letters both long and short, and she would reveal little pieces of her life in little phrases without really telling me who she was at all.

I grew quite fond of the quirky girl in her quaint ways. I had never met her before but I considered her a friend.

Then one day, without any warning, on a warm September day when school had already started, the letters stopped. She stopped writing. There were no more pictures and the remnants of the girl and her shadowy friend were blown away with the winter wind and I forgot about her.

She didn’t even know I existed.

She was gone for 18 months. One not so very special day, she reappeared again for a moment. Her smile was weak and although I didn’t see them when she typed the note out, I could tell that her hands were shaky when she tapped out letters on her keyboard to say she was back and had returned to blogging, that she was sorry for how life had changed and she had forgotten about her little blog, that she was prepared to continue.

It was her last post.

I know it sounds stupid, but I miss her. I never commented or liked anything because I didn’t have an account at the time. I still wonder if it would’ve made a difference had I contacted her in some way.

Deep down, I know it wouldn’t.

How life has changed. I don’t recognize the girl I was last January.

Where did you go? Did you get lost amid the schooling and the papers, the labs and the exams? What path did you take that led you one way and this other girl here? What did you do that I can’t see you in the mirror anymore?

How life has changed. And yet, I can’t pinpoint exactly what is different.

Hello, girl I scarcely recognize with a faint sad smile on her lips. You have no reason to be sad at the loss of that former life and yet you are. You don’t regret the change but you did lose something. You wouldn’t mind it being lost as long as you knew what it was.

Hello, girl who dyed her hair slightly redder, who finds herself dating a different blonde boy, who claims a different major, who has scrambled together frail future plans, who wrote a book-length manuscript and started a blog just because she wanted to and wanted to be able to say that she could.

Hello self.

You exist. I know you exist. You know I exist. It’s a mutual agreement now.

Please don’t slip away. I like the way you are.

And yet I know you must change.

Merry Christmas.