It’s been 14 years since we last talked, but I still keep our memories together safely cached in my heart.

The delight in your face—after building couch forts and staying up all night reading—was my reason for living. You used to tell me the wildest stories about dinosaurs, pirates, astronauts and faeries. We talked about super powers.

You dreamed of an invisibility cloak so you could sneak into all of your favorite places after dark and just be.

Oh, how seeing the world through your eyes kept me young.

You loved telling me about your day at school. I had such pride in my girl’s love of learning. I loved singing with you in the car—your voice captivated me. Your love of words astounded me. I knew you’d grow up and become a powerful, strong woman with a voice that mattered. I knew your voice would change lives.

But something happened when you turned 11.

You started to get quiet. You turned shy. The creative, free-spirited, long haired girl—who boldly asked for the truth—vanished, behind glassy blue eyes.

Your eyes—once the windows to your beautiful soul—closed out the world.

Oh, how I long to hear your voice and your yearning for authenticity from everyone who you crossed paths with.

I would move heaven and earth to get you to speak again. I long to hear about your day, to wipe your tears and to comfort your tired body. I would die a thousand deaths to hug you—to hold you in my arms and to hear the wisdom of your words.

My love, I know what happened—I know why you left.

I know it hurt to feel like your words had been corrupted and your bright being no longer belonged to your body or to your circumstances.

I take solace in knowing you got your invisibility cloak.

I hope your cloaked travels have been nothing short of magical and eye-opening. I hope you have met strangers and made new friends, along your journey, who you’ve shared your speech with.

I keep myself content with stories about the world you took refuge in—a world that hears your words for their worth.

But when your cloak starts to ruffle in the wind, I will be waiting here to hear you.

And when you are ready, we will be strong together and confident in our voices as we step forward—back into the world we live in.

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Relephant:

Keeping Childhood Friends in Our Hearts Forever.

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Author: Caitlin Oriel

Editor: Yoli Ramazzina

Photo: Flickr/NafLeNaf