I wonder if her name was Monica or Monika. She was apparently my best friend when I was three years old. But when you're three, it doesn't really matter what your friend's like, as long as she's just there.
Me and Monica were friends. I have no recollection of her whatsoever. Nothing. I don't remember the color of her hair, or her eyes, I can't remember if she was older than me or bigger than me or even what we played. Whenever I think about her, I think about the wooden swing on my Grandma's yard. Just because I think there is a photo where we - Monica and I - sit under the swing or something.
This girl, this person, is a complete stranger to me. And yet, every time I hear the name Monica, I think of her. I am reminded of the fact that I had a friend called Monica when I was a kid.
I guess it's just because I haven't ever known anybody else called Monica. Anyway, it's a beautiful name. Let's put it on the list.
