Dear Current Love(s),

I remember how we came together — [It was good.] — and oh, I'm glad. But I don't remember how it was, exactly, we found our beginning. One day we were our own dot blogspots, and the next day, suddenly, we were us.

We were us before The Collective, us before Google Reader, us even before Twitter.

Oh, Twitter! Remember the day it launched? One of us sent an email: Are we going to try this Twitter thing? And we signed up, just the four of us, to use it as a group instant/text message service. Remember how there was no such thing as hash tags or Fail Whale and we could have our Tweets delivered to Gchat? Remember how we called them Twits?

Lots of people mock Twitter for the inanity of it all, but I love being connected to the three of you: sharing about our grocery shopping and our asshole coworkers and our real life relationships and our favorite TV shows and our heartbreaking sports moments and all the big and little stuff that sweeps us up in its tide and calls itself life.

It was you who sang me into bravery. And now I am. And here we are.

Sometimes people ask me to explain who you are, exactly, and I try to do it in a way they'll understand: They're a lawyer and a business boss and a college boss. They're girlfriends and students and athletes and daughters. They love music and books. They love puppies and kittens. They love pickles, potato salad, mittens, and Sorry. You know: the game, SORRY!

Yes, people ask, but do you know them?

I know that their souls are stitched together with magic.

I know that we're stitched together with magic too.

I love that about us: the magic parts.

I love that, with us, it's all magic parts.

Bonsoir Canards,

Heather! Anne!