It’s been a while since I last saw you. A couple of years have passed, yet I remember you. I want to ask you how you’ve been, but I know that is impossible. You’re gone, and that’s okay. But if some of you is left, there are still some things I want to say.
I miss your carefree giggle. No matter how dark and dim the day was or how low the sun crept, you always kept that gap-filled smile under your breath. Your eyes would gleam with malicious intent at the things we’d do back when we didn’t know better.
We would create the most inspired tales on the woodchips at recess. And we would dance and sing the songs we crafted. Thinking back, we must have looked wild. With our bright eyes and tousled hair, the thoughts that passersby would’ve thought must have been out of this world. Yet, somehow I don’t remember passers-by or inquisitive eyes, I could’ve sworn we were alone. At that time, in that mind, we were the world.
Every year, on the same day, we would have a big get-together. Even though we hung out every day, this was still something special. I remember the soapy face masks that hung on our cheeks and the screaming serenades our toothy mouths would screech. Yes, there were others there, but I can’t remember their faces. At the time, there was only room in my mind for recess, lunch, and my best friend.
I cannot remember exactly when I realized I missed the party. Our annual get-together went on without me. I must have seen it coming because I wasn’t really sad. Just kind of relieved and reaffirmed. Yes, I saw it coming.
I saw my missing invite in the way our songs had quieted. I saw your goodbye in our silent table setting. Was I the problem? Was that why you left? Did I laugh too loud at the joke you said? Maybe the stories I brought to our lunchroom table were plain. Or were my sister’s hand-me-downs not in style anymore?
No. Perhaps it wasn’t those things. I know it wasn’t just you or only me. We were growing and maturing into the people we were about to be.
I saw that missing invite in the way I found new people I had never talked to before. I saw your goodbye when you sat in the other class, and our lunches no longer happily matched. Did you laugh too loud, or were you too boring? Were your clothes just not nice enough for me to be seen with?
No. You did nothing wrong. I don’t think I did either. At least I hope that I wasn’t the problem. Our classes were halls apart, and now we barely spoke. I sat with other people to eat my lunch, and so did you. I wasn’t surprised to miss the occasional invite or hangout. No one sang songs at recess anymore, mostly because there was none. We didn’t have our gap-filled smiles that touched our eyes when we giggled. Our teeth grew in, and so did our minds.
This doesn’t mean I hate you or want you gone. It just means I miss you. The you that you used to be. I miss my old self too, the girl who used to be besties with the girl who used to be you. I like her too: the girl you are now. You still laugh and smile; you’re kind and sweet. I know we’re still friends…we’re just out of reach. Not friends, not enemies, just strangers.
