There are six feet separating us. Six feet between you and me. Six beautiful, grassy, well-cared-for feet. All my life those six feet have been there, and for thirteen years they’ve been separating me from you.
When we first met, you walked down your side of those six feet and asked in the sweetest voice if you could play with me. And that was the beginning of us. From that moment on we have been inseparable, except for while we’re on either side of those six feet.
When it felt like the world was ending and we weren’t allowed to be closer to each other than six feet, we would sit in our driveways, our voices and laughs drifting over the space between. We would pass gifts through mailboxes, and wait for the day when we could cross those six feet once again.
When you experienced your first heartbreak, you crossed those six feet to get to me. You sat in my car, and we went to get ice cream. We crossed back over those six feet to let your mom know you were okay, and that you were slowly starting to heal.
When it’s nine o’clock in the morning on a July Saturday, and we walk down our own sides of those six feet to reach the table set up at the end, it’s the best part of my summer. When we sit together, not letting that space separate us, eat until our stomachs are full, and laugh until our hearts are. We always look forward to those days.
When we would pick berries off the bushes that grow in those six feet and hope that they were blueberries, we didn’t have any other cares. Those few bushes turned into a medley of plants that are collectively taken care of and collectively enjoyed. Those six feet are now sustaining the life that sustains us.
When we grow up, I will fondly remember those six feet. Whenever I visit, those six feet will remind me of all those good times. All the times we laughed or cried. Our whole childhood is represented in those six feet, and as long as those feet are there I will never forget any part of us. Every time I cross those six feet I am flooded with memories of us. I am flooded with the good and the bad. I am flooded with my whole life. Every time I cross those six feet I smile.
Those six feet have been part of me for as long as I can remember. Forever those six feet have been there, and forever they will remain. I shudder at the thought of the day when it takes more than six feet to get to you.
