To you my Friend

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
An old essay of mine from high school last year (2016) about my sweetheart that moved away when we were young.

Submitted: March 28, 2017

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Submitted: March 28, 2017



To my Dear Friend, my confession to thee.

Where to begin? Oh where shall I begin? The beginning is a place to begin but that is a cliché beginning. But for now I shall begin in the beginning. The beginning of a story still yet to be finished.

Do you remember that day? It was when we first met. The first day of school and the first day at that school for me. I was very different back then in my youth, a different person than what I am now. You had a large role to play in that you know. That first day of school I was running late. I rushed to the classroom, only recently learning where it was. The latest to arrive with only one chair to left for me. Second from the front, middle row and to the right. Do you remember now? I was very awkward at first wasn’t I? Those were my awkward years after all.

It didn’t take long for us to bond, strange though since I was so nervous talking to a girl. I don’t remember a time besides the first few minutes where we were strangers to each other. I do remember all the time we spent together though. At the school we were near inseparable, even with the bombardments of taunts and jeers from our peers, snickering at their couple to be. Even outside we were near always together. I remember well thinking to myself, ‘why does she always want to come over?’ but even back then, back when I preferred to be alone, I never found myself minding.

But sadly the simple sweet story of youth ends and things changed. We grew up and you had to grow faster than anyone should have had to. I remember those faces well. They are bitter and heavy memories that I bear if only to never have them repeat themselves. Sullen and sorrowful sad faces. Your sweet smile gone. Those eyes of yours at our last parting. It’s ingrained into my thoughts. How I wished I could’ve just held onto you back then and ward of all the troubles life threw. How I still wish for that.

From tens to thousands to hundreds the distance between us spanned. Never too far to talk but never close enough to bear. But we both made due. You spoke of your life and I spoke of mine. Do you also hope that that ‘your’ and ‘mine’ will become ‘our’ some day?

Isn’t it strange how the farthest pillars can be the strongest? Life was a heavy thing. Though it never gets lighter, just more bearable as we become more able to hold its weight. Even when more and more pillars crumbled. One stood strong amongst the debris and that one delayed the fall long enough for the others to be rebuilt, not as numerous as before but all stronger and now all placed on solid foundation.

Remember those brief few times when that ‘our’ came to be yet again? Reoccurring youth and blissful being. You were the spitting image of yourself still and with all the changes coming welcomed. Could you say the same for me?

Did you see my awestruck face that evening? No wait you missed it.

Did you catch all my glances your way? No but most of it.

Did you mind all my steps? No… but we still danced and danced in that wondrous circle, surrounded by the stars.

Have you yet to realise that I am still dancing from that night? Though now atop your palm alone. Merrily moving with you in mind.

© Copyright 2018 RD Griffiths. All rights reserved.

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