Dear Lottie,

God, I miss you. I know it’s silly that after all of these years I still feel the obsessive need to hand write letters to you. It’s the 2100’s… you’d think I’d understand that pen and paper is a lost love language. Anyways, it’s February. I dread having to celebrate without you. Remember my 12th birthday? The one where all of my family members were drinking rum punch and smokin...