I often have little fantasies about what Melissa's life would be like at 28 years old.
Most of my fantasies paint a very positive life for her. She would be in a stable and loving relationship, with maybe a child or two and at least two dogs. Probably some cats too because she loved all animals. She would be on Facebook and would Like everything I posted. She would mostly post animal photos and someecards and animated gifs.
I would talk to her all the time but probably not as often as I would feel like I should. She would live in Alaska we would see each other weekly and vent about work crap and life crap and oh man did you hear the latest family drama? What the heck is wrong with people?? She would let me photograph her any time I wanted and would love being in front of the camera.
She would be trim with a kickass short haircut that I'd be jealous of. I'd be jealous of most things she did. She would live in jeans and sweatshirts and although she wouldn't work a standard office job, she would excel at what she chose to do. She would still have horrible taste in movies, and I would still willingly see them with her.
She would be the first person (after my husband) I would call when I had exciting/sad/frustrating news. She would be the only person I would call when I had problems with my husband and she would tell me exactly how much of it was my fault.
She would understand all of the really lame inside jokes I still say even though no one within two thousand miles gets them. We would have years worth of new inside jokes that would only be funny to us but that wouldn't stop us from sharing them with everyone. And she would regularly crack me up because she would still be so. Damn. Funny.
We would take trips together, just the two of us. Trips camping, trips to sunny and sandy tropics. Trips to Homer where we would talk about love and life over fancy coffee, and talk about successes and disappointments while collecting rocks on the beach.
I don't know how the ten years would have changed her. I know how they have changed me, and I know that a good portion of that is due to her. I still miss her tremendously. I miss who she was, the experiences we had and the secrets we shared.
But more importantly I miss who she would have become, the experiences we would have had and the secrets we should have shared.