"There has been no one brighter than you
I can't deny these things that I do
Feels like the world's at stake 'cause
I have been waiting
I have been waiting for you"



Don't Stop Dreaming
1986
Church Girls Like Bad Boys
The Mushy Part
The Bomb Drops – (Make Sya's Head Asplode)
Fan, Meet Shit.  Shit, Meet Fan.
The Rebellious Teen Years
1991
Letting Go
Absolutely Wrong
Girl's Gone Wild
The Sign



We Get Signal.  What!

I read the email again.  Yes, I was that same Stacy who lived on the corner of Franklin and Missouri!  I didn't know how to respond.  Now, when Mike was born, his mother gifted him with 5 middle names.  One of them was Kyle.  I wondered if maybe he was named after an uncle, and it was now his uncle writing to me.  Maybe he had terrible news to tell me about Mike.  What if he just died?  But then why would his uncle call me?  I would certainly not be of any concern to his family after all these years.  But what if Mike had taken Kyle up as a nickname the same way I had taken Sya?  Was this really Mike Reed, the one I had been so madly in love with as a girl?  My heart pounded in my chest and my eyes welled up with tears.  So he did remember me.  

To say I was curious would be an understatement, so I wrote back something like "Indeed, that would be me.  I haven't lived there for a very long time though…  What can I do for you?"  I sent it right away.  I noticed that he had sent the email from an air force base so I assumed I would not hear from him until the following Monday.  Waiting was so hard.  I was dying to know if it was really he, and if it was, what did he want?  

Sure enough, when I came home from work the next Monday, there was another email waiting for me.  He started out by apologizing for being so vague in his last email; he said he just wanted to talk to me. "I knew you once, and really, really needed to have a chance to beg your forgiveness." He wrote.  He mentioned  "our song" (which I'll keep a secret for now) to strengthen my memory.  

My memory of him was strong enough to slay a fiery dragon at that point.  I started counting the years since I'd last saw his face.  It had been 16 years, but does the heart ever forget the very first time it has loved?  I wrote back and told him that I couldn't forget him, that every time I drove down Franklin Avenue, I'd look at his old house instead of mine and wonder what ever became of him.  I told him I always wanted to stop and ask about him but was afraid his mother no longer lived there.

What ensued was a steady torrent of emails sent back and forth as we anxiously and desperately wanted to learn all we could about each other. We quickly became friends, and the details in our emails began to take on a more personal nature.  He told me he had tried to search for me many times but couldn't find me until recently when the results of a search led him to an art site where I had posted my contact information.  He said he never forgot me and longed to apologize for what happened all those years before.   I told him about my life in Flint, how I'd married Tony, our subsequent divorce, my two kids, my new house, and how my recent engagement turned sour. He lived in Cincinnati. He told me of his success working in IT over the years.  I told him I was a software reviewer.  So right away, we knew we had computers in common.  But inevitably, our discussions turned to those years when we were young.

When he wrote about what happened during his 8 years of military service, I cried.  It all started to make sense.  It was like finding the last few missing pieces of a puzzle.   Now I'm about to tell you, so then you will know too, how all of the pieces finally came together.

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