My parents own a small place near our house that they rent out to others for living. It's right opposite our house so you barely even have to walk.
When I was a really young kid, a small family came to live there. My parents got acquainted with the parents so I got acquainted and became friends with the kids (a boy and a girl) in their family too.
Since we lived so close to each other, hanging out and playing together became very easy and we spent every evening with each other. Sometimes her brother and my younger cousin would join us and we'd all play together.
We found games to play inside when we weren't allowed to leave the house and we made up games when we didn't have any. As long as we were together, we could play for hours and hours.
We were happy.
But then her family was ready to move again and suddenly I was going to lose my friend. Thankfully, it wasn't just me who felt sad about it.
I remember the last evening we spent together. We were on the terrace of her place, which had by then become our main spot for hanging out. We told each other we were going to miss and remember each other for the rest of our lives no matter what.
We also tried shedding tears, to show how meaningful we really were to each other, but for some reason despite trying a few times, the tears just never made their way out. So we eventually gave up trying and spent the rest of the evening talking until it was time for me to go back home.
We said our goodbyes and that's probably the last memory I have of her.
Later she moved away like she was supposed to and I no longer had a friend to spend my evenings with.
As a kid, having someone to play with, even just one person, is enough. It doesn't matter what or where or when or how. It's enough as long as you have one friend who you can talk to and spend time with. For a while, she became that person for me.
Today, I barely remember her face. It has been more than ten years. I remember her first name but I know nothing else about her. I don't know where she is or what she is doing.
If she remembers me.
I remember her though. Maybe not everything about her but I remember her.
Dear Friend,
Thank you for being my friend and playing with me. As a kid, that's the fondest memory you can make. I am happy we got to share it together.
YOU ARE READING
Little Nostalgia: My Memory Gallery
Non-Fictionthis book contains pieces of me in pieces of my memories. this isn't poetry, these are real moments out of my life that have somehow managed to stick to my very forgetful brain. written and recalled as one would the past. Copyright © 2022 WriterBells
