letters to the lost

to my first crush

I never understood it back then, because I was so young, but I adored you.

I would've done anything to get your attention. Your friendship. Your company. I was always watching from afar, even though you barely knew I existed.

Your best friend was the earliest bully I can remember. She was always tormenting me, pinching me, pulling at my hair. It didn't help that I sported these twin pigtails back then; all the easier for her to pull. The worst part? You would join her. Laugh at me while she bothered and nagged me. And it hurt vaguely, the way a passing, light collision with a piece of furniture hurts when you don't have time to pay attention to it, but I didn't mind. Didn't care.

I so wanted to play with you, to hang out. My attraction was vague, nonsensical to me then, but I didn't care. Five year olds don't have much time for emotional contemplation. I just wanted to be around you, and it didn't help that I sucked at making friends or hanging out with kids. Still do. I've never made friends in my life, people just kinda...stick around sometimes.

I still remember that day. You were sitting alone, without your best friend for the first time I'd ever seen you. I remember walking up to you, asking where she was. The spark of happiness that flicked up inside me when you told me she wasn't in school that day.

It was the first time I had the courage, the opportunity, to ask you to be friends.

Your answer was a temporary blessing: "Okay, but only for today, because my friend will come back tomorrow."

It's bloody hilarious now that I think back on it, but five year old me lived in heaven that day. We shared desks, sat next to each other at lunch, played together. It was only six hours or so, but it was like living in a dream, a boon granted on borrowed time. When it was over, and my dad came to pick me up, I remember feeling this bittersweet sort of emotion, turning back and waving to you as I left the small playground outside the school. Brooding slightly on the way home, before my attention was drawn away by whatever insignificant shit I liked as a kid.

And the next day, everything was back to normal. It was like nothing had ever happened out of the ordinary. Your friend was back to bullying me, and you were back to thinking I didn't exist.

But I was happier. I'd moved on.

I don't remember being sad that you'd forgotten me. I don't remember ever watching you longingly from afar again. I'd had my taste, and I was okay with the fact that I'd never have it again.

It's ridiculous and honestly a little pathetic, looking back on this weird attachment I had to a girl I hardly knew and who hardly knew me, and the fact that I let myself be used as a pitiable substitute, but in a way, it's sweet too. Sweet and stupid and adorable. It makes me cringe to no end, but in good way, not in a way where I want to run at top speed at a wall and cleave my skull in two. I was five, and hey, the fact that I had the emotional maturity not to mope about being abandoned by the girl I was so eager to get to know in itself is kind of impressive, considering how I was back then.

Thankyou for giving me a memory I still smile back on and lovingly cringe at sometimes.

I'm sorry I don't remember your name. Maybe we'll meet again someday.

- Jana, 31/3/2023