𝕊𝕒𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕓𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 ♡

The friend i could never meet

Draft

Sam meets a boy at the park. They become friends, more or less, but never talk. They swing on the swings with each other, and simply exist.

Until one day Sam comes to the park like usual, but doesn't see the other boy, only to find a letter on his swing.

Is it possible to cry for someone you never met, yet did at the same time?

________________

Sam wasn't stupid. At least that's what he'd told himself all the time. Enough times he eventually believed. No, he was a logical and rational person.

That's why he started going to the kind-of-abandoned park by his house to sit on the swings to rethink his life. No need for therapists, those were fakes anyways.

No, he simply went there when his parents finally had fallen asleep to think. Everyday. He didn't do anything. Just sat there, swinging slowly with his feet still planted on the ground, and he lost himself in thought.

That's why he didn't notice the first time he appeared. Sam was so deeply lost in thought he hadn't heard nor seen the small shape of a person- no, a teenage boy, like him- stroll casually towards him and seat himself on the swing next to him.

He was startled to say the least, but made no move. He looked at the boy, how that black and blue hoodie kind of hung from his small form. He sat slumped on the swing just like Sam did.

His hood was covering his head, but he could see small brown patches of hair someitmes peeking out. And his hands were in his pockets.

They always were, now that he thinks back to it.

He left it at that, deciding staring was rude and went back to lightly swinging.

It was silent. The boy didn't speak, he never did. But he did swing like Sam did, so maybe he came here for the same reason as him.

To escape

_________________

Over time this became a common occurrence.
He decided to name the boy Stranger.

Because he was, wasn't he?

Sam went out to the swings whenever he had the chance. Almost everyday. Except Stranger was always there when Sam arrived. Even when he came out later than usual.

They didn't speak, they never did.

It was like an unspoken agreement. They never spoke, or interacted, just sat at the same set of swings.

Two lost boys.

Sometimes shit would go down at Sam's house and he couldn't go to the swings for a day or two. He'd always been scared, not that he'd admit, that the Stranger wouldn't be there when he went back. That maybe he'd finally lost interest and left.

But that never happened.

He was always there. Always.

Waiting.

Just waiting, softly swinging.

____________________

Eventually as time progressed, and Sam was getting more and more comfortable with the boy he strangely found peace in, he grew more fond of Stranger.

Even if he couldn't see him as often as before, he was always excited whenever he could meet him. Their comfortable silence was the best part of his day everytime.

He felt as if he wasn't alone, in a way. Maybe someone who understood him.

Sometimes he worried though. That maybe someday Stranger would stop showing up. That he wouldn't be there anymore, and Sam didn't even know his name.

Never to meet again. And that... that scared him. He didn't want to stop meeting Stranger, as odd as that was.

I should have asked. He now thinks often. Too often.

____________________

It'd been just like any other day. He swung with Stranger, like any other day.

How was he to know that day would be the last one?

The last time he'd see Stranger?

Well, he couldn't have. It was just like any other day for him.

__________________

The next day when he went walking towards the swings and saw the absence of the blue and black hoodie, he panicked.

Well, not exactly panicked. His heart pumped in his chest, even with the reassurances that he told himself. Because Stranger was never late. In all the months he'd known him, he'd never been late.

Stranger was fine, just late.

He too had a life.

He was just late.

But he still speed walked over to the swings, but stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the paper.

The paper that was laying on Stranger's seat.

He had taken a deep breath, braced himself, and he'd taken the letter, somehow knowing it was meant for him.

With shaky hands and feet, a shaky heart and mind, he'd sat down.

And he'd read the letter, pretending that the drops of water falling on the paper weren't from him, no, it was just raining.

That the disappointment and anguish he felt wasn't real. After all, he didn't know his friend, as he was told in the letter.

But that was alright.

On a cold, lonely night, swaying on a swing, he'd let himself cry, mourning for a stranger he never knew yet did at the same time.

He let himself cry that night, sobs lingering in the air and shaking shoulders. Uncertain as to why he was crying for someone he didn't know, but it made sense, in a way. For him it did.

He was, just like all those months before this, alone again.

___________________

Dear swing guy,

My name is Colby. It's nice to meet you. Well, more like you're meeting me. I'll never get the chance.

I'd like to say thank you, and that I am sorry.

Thank you... Just... thank you. For being here.

I'm sorry I'm leaving. I'm pretty sure I won't come back. I'm....not meant for this .But that's okay. I've accepted my fate a long time ago.

At least I'd like you to know that, throughout these months, you helped me. Just by staying with me, truly, you did.

But I cant hold myself together any longer. Today was the last time. I want to escape the pain. I'm not ok, and I won't ever be.

I'm sorry for leaving you, I could tell how much you enjoyed my company. I hope you'll make better friends someday though. And don't let anything life gives you throw you into the spot I was or am.

don't blame yourself for this, im sure you will, but please dont. just know that im thankful :)

perhaps in another life we could have been great friends, im sure. now live the best life you can, try to be happy.

___________________

Sam searched the name on the internet that night, and cried some more when he did find him.

Runaway Boy Jumps From Building - An Unfortunate Story. The title said.

He cried some more for the friend he never got to meet, but did at the same time.