I wonder how it’d be, for you at 28, and for me at 31, to come together, to laugh, to bitch about all the silly stuff, and to lose track of time.  If only I knew how to bake fancy cakes then.  If only I could bake one for you now.  So many things have changed since, but my thoughts of you remain the same.

Happy 28th, Hazel.  With love.

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