You remember The Girl Who Moved Away, right? She’s the whole reason this blog exists. I loved her very much, but I encouraged her to chase her dream. Even though I knew it would break my heart and bring the dark clouds.
Shortly after she moved away for school, she insisted that I start this blog to distract me from how much I missed her. For the longest time this blog was about how much I loved her, missed her, and hoped she wouldn’t forget me.
She appeared in the blog as both The Girl Who Moved Away and as the Archangel Rachel, my guardian angel. Over time, I wrote about her less and less. Eventually, the Archangel vanished, the blog moved in another direction, and I fell in love with a Sweet Irish Girl.
Now, she is The Doctor Who Moved Away and married to someone other than me.
Despite all this, I never thought I’d forgot about this woman, who I once loved so much.
But as I was scrolling through Facebook on my break this morning, I saw a post from a mutual friend wishing her a Happy Birthday.
I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten. I have a steel trap of a memory, and it boggles my mind that the significance of today’s date completely slipped my mind.
I suppose it’s a good thing. A sign that I’ve moved on.
But I’m still upset with myself.
I’ve been upset at The Girl Who Moved Away for leaving me in the dust. We had promised that we’d always stay in touch, forever be friends, and never lose track of each other. No matter where our lives took us.
While I’m no longer in love with her, she will always have a special place in my heart. I’m a bit sad today that her birthday was not at all on my radar. I don’t want to forget her, even if she’s chosen to forget me.
Maybe when January rolls around, I’ll forget about another important birthday, but I doubt that will happen. I’m still hopelessly in love with the woman who turns 30 that month, just two days after my special day.
Happy Birthday, Rachel.
I’m sorry I forgot today was your birthday. Thank you for making me start this blog, and I hope that you don’t mind that I’ve finally revealed your name after almost four years.
It was finally time, and there’s no need to hide your identity any longer, Birthday Girl.
I truly wish you the best and hope life is treating you well. You are dearly missed at The House on the Hill, and I am a better man because you once chose to love me.
What do you think, Modern Philosophers? Is it a good thing that I forgot her birthday? Or should we always hold on to the important memories like the birthdays of those we once loved?
If you follow me on Pinterest, I’ll try to remember your birthday…