We shared space. I would lay in my bed and listen to you touch keys and make music. My ceiling would sound when you practiced ballet and our kitchen always smelled of coffee and scones because of you. You knew me better than anyone, and sometimes you still do. We dreamed about the future, while we walked down Hardscrabble Road, Sixth Street, Elm Street, and the road we live on now.

You left sticky notes up on my mirror the day my heart was broken and you made me oatmeal on Christmas morning. I met this family because of you, then you left. I met him because of you, then I left. I met myself because of you, a roommate is a better mirror than one made of glass.

We would sit on the porch on sweltering summer nights, you with your fat Bible and me with my poems. You said nothing and I did too, giving new meaning to having nothing in common. You cried on the phone with me the other night and I remembered when I first met you, how I loved you so. I will drive somewhere today and pick you up, put you in my car, and we will drive, the two of us, to where we used to live. Together.

You used to write songs in the other room and I would write at the same time. Creativity begets creativity. We lit candles and danced our way to midnight with words and music and mutual appreciation. You helped me take my first steps, though I don't remember. And you help me take steps every day, this I will always remember. We never talk anymore, but I know when we see one another again, it will be like it always was--though I wish not, because it never was very good anyway. I have hope for more.

I still wear the brown jacket you gave me that day, flinging it on my bed like you are--one bird in constant flight, flinging your heart in every direction. The slippers you gave me still warm my feet. Do you still wear the skirt I let you borrow so often we couldn't remember whose it really was after all? It doesn't matter, it's yours now.

Like my heart. It's all yours, I've shared it too much and for too long to remember who's gotten pieces of it and who hasn't.

All I know is that once we lived together, worked together, played together, laughed together, lived together.

And we became a part of who I am.