January 17th

Happy Birthday Best-ie.  You are my very favorite.

From our re-meeting, we both denied anything would happen between us, all the while knowing what was already there.  I won't fall in love, I won't fall in love, but my hand had a deep splinter and your keys had a pocket knife and we didn't even kiss.  We just stood there taking each other in.

Those early times play over in my mind.  My mailbox in the summer was always full of your letters, my walks with Zuko got longer until I was outside your door- you stuck jax in my pocket and chalk in my hand and told me to mark up my city at a time when my words were stuck.  I remember standing in the kitchen and telling my mother what I needed more than anything was art, and you were the fleshed out part I'd been missing.

You are already the best father.
I'm proud of you.
I'm proud of what we've made.  I'm excited all the time about our future.


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