I was afraid to talk to you in 2012. Wit and charm and specifically, my sister's friend -- something that now makes me laugh because of how much it precluded me from ever speaking to you.
It's not that you were particularly scary. It's that there isn't a prepping-for-friendship act in the world -- nerve included -- that's appropriately fitted for what you really get, but how could there be? How could you possibly measure the space in a heart -- one you don't even realize exists -- that is made for someone whom you had no idea would become one of your best friends? How could you summarize the feeling you're supposed to feel when someone you've never connected with physically, is one of the most steadying things in your life?
It's not that you were scary. It's that, from that tiny second when I pressed "Tweet," I couldn’t have imagined the great breadth that you would take up—the great breadth that you already were the moment I finally found that nerve I needed. I've known your magic for over two years now.
You turn twenty three today. The earth has made its long journey around the sun not once but twenty three times since you took your first breath. The thought of that journey can be overwhelming sometimes—such a long trip and such slow progression around the sun. But while we wait for it to make its cycle, we have small, more important progression to celebrate. It spins! The earth spins while it moves, giving us days. Lots of them. Learning and accomplishing and forward movement that is so recognizable, we have to take hold of the things that don't spin to stay grounded. The tilt of the earth's spin that I feel when we have those once every six months super-deep-life conversations, your smile at the moment you catch sight of me on the Skype screen, your encouragement to our friends when they're upset or insecure about something (I got to witness that one on Skype a few months ago. You are beautiful.) And we celebrate you today. Oh, how my Earth spins with you in it.
It’s not that I don’t realize that two years is just the beginning, a sliver of beauty for all that is to come. It’s just that it seems you’ve been here my whole life, and two years makes the most beautiful eternity.
Happy birthday, Mia. I love you.
