Those old days that I can barely remember, the evenings we stayed up late, those times we quietly conversed while our parents were sleeping are long gone now. I haven't seen any of them since middle school. I wonder, do they remember me or am I just part of their memory that faded to black.
Some days I pick up the microphone I built with them and look at it wondering if they still wish we were together, if they still remember the promise we made under the moonlit sky in that field when we were all barely ten. The childish promise I once discarded in my memory is one of the last remaining memories of my friends.
I want them to remember because I certainly do and I won't be forgetting it anytime soon, even if they did.
_________________________________________________________________________
Contrary to popular belief I do miss my friends, even if it looks like I don't. They were- no still are dear to me but mother never liked the others she only liked him. Silly isn't it nothing used to hold me back now i can't do anything without the fear of messing up.
Some days I look at the synthesiser I hid in my room longing for a life that could have happened if he didn't leave us behind, jealousy running through my veins as I wonder why he got to leave but we were left behind.
I wonder if I also had the chance to leave would I have chosen to.
_________________________________________________________________________
I always dreamed of touching the stars with the people I love. I wonder if they dreamt the same thing, knowing my luck they didn't, maybe that's why he left... maybe that's why she looks at me with such disdain, I can't even fathom why.
Some days I look at my old bass and hold back the urge to smash it into pieces, yet I hesitate and stare into it the stickers placed by childish dreamers weathered by the feelings of betrayal and sadness causing them to become discoloured.
I hope I can still perform with those I hold dear, if not what else am I supposed to do.
_________________________________________________________________________
The days after he left were the hardest, I know, I know, it wasn't his fault but it still hurts. It doesn't help that they both stopped hanging out with me after. People never liked me when I was friends with them, and they sure as hell don't like me now. I long for the connections I once had even if they are now lost.
Once I walked into the music department and saw the drum kit, I just stared at it. After all, I had long since given mine away, what was the use, no one would play with me. It was only two minutes but it felt like an hour of me just standing there staring at the drumset reminiscing.
I wish that I could go back to my childhood and tell my past self to selfishly hold onto those I hold dear, maybe I would still have my friends.
YOU ARE READING
In this moonlit field we can be "us" again
Fanfic'Are you sure about this?' 'Of course, why else would we still be here' 'Because we have nowhere else to go...?' 'Yes, and yes' 'There was only one question' Four childhood friends separated by fate try to reconcile and form a band and tackle the st...
