And now that scared little girl no longer follows me wherever I go, I miss her. I do. Cause there are things I want to tell her...to relax, to lighten up, that it's all going to be okay. I want her to know that meeting people who like you, who understand you, who actually accept you for who you are, will become an increasingly rare occurance. These people contributed to who I am, they are with me wherever I go, and as history gets rewritten in small ways with each passing day, my love for them only grows. Because the truth is it was the best of times. Mistakes were made, hearts were broken, harsh lessons learned, but all that has receded into fond memory now. How does it happen? Why are we so quick for forget the bad and romanticize that good? Maybe it's because we need to believe that the time we spend together acutally meant something, that we were there for eachother in a time in our lives that defined us all, a time in our lives we will never forget. I can't swear this is exactly how it happened. But this is how it felt.~Joey(Dawson's Creek)