by Ash Barnard
I remember you
Just like I promised to you, what feels like lifetimes ago, when you would have qualified as “the one that got away”, but you were, and most likely still are, so much more than that title. You were the light that shined upon me during my darkest times. You remain one of the few fond, warm, soft parts of my memory in that hell hole of a childhood. You gave me the best example of what a really good relationship feels like, how refreshing and respectful it’s supposed to be. And we were only just six years old. I will never ever forget you. I remember every last one of my favorite details of you.
You, the one who refused to cut her long blonde hair because I was trying to grow out mine and you wanted to do it with me. You, who watched the little mermaid and the lion king religiously. You, who would pounce on me and we’d wrestle like lion cubs of a pride until we dropped dead from exhaustion.
Yeah, it was obvious that we both had little girl crushes on each other. The sweetest, gayest six and five year old partnership, in our own innocent world. I was constantly jealous of all your other friends, you were a charismatic extrovert, after all. I constantly tried to steal your attention when they were around, to the point where I pretended I was sick at your sixth birthday party. Wasn’t my highest point, I’ll admit. But it was clear, you loved me, so much.
But it couldn’t stay that way, could it? It all came to a hard stop when you moved away. You packed your dented, golden heart and left all of us, the people you touched and glued together, on our knees. Of course, you didn’t mean to. Life happens, things change, long-distance doesn’t always work out. You had to move on from your old life to make room for the new one.
It was still, an extremely hard hit.
We promised the day you packed up all your things from school that we would never forget each other. I kept that promise, and I’m sure I will for the rest of my life. I sometimes wonder if you did too. It’s okay if you didn’t, I understand.
But you will always be a memory that I treasure, a valuable experience I am grateful to claim to have received. And I thank you profusely for giving me that long year of sunshine, that I needed so badly,
when things got dark.