I wish we could talk

I used to know a great kid.

She was apparently open.  She thought a lot.  Many people perceived her as just cute.  She was cute.  She was a very beautiful child.

I miss her.

Her parents are were divorced.  She loved them both.  She was brave.

I helped her walk in a play ground when she was barely eighteen months.

She rode bicycles and horses.

She fell down and sometimes cried.

She didn’t love books.

She had elegant handwriting and good taste in clothes.

She was kind.

I miss that child.

I didn’t say good bye especially well.  She probably won’t forgive me.  She shouldn’t, because I didn’t put her first.

She deserves people who put her first.

I miss that child.

 

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