A Boy Named Ben

At the age of 3, I was a giddy little bugger with more energy than I could handle (or so my mother tells me). I was amazed by people and stories and everything in between; the fictional and the facts didn't matter.

It was at the age of 3 that I started nursery, a curious place built in the shape of a doughnut, with children running around in brightly coloured jumpers branded with the nursery logo – a hedgehog. These jumpers are one of the fondest memories I have of the nursery, alongside the crackers we would eat at break with our under-diluted orange squash that would give us a sugar rush until 'home time' at lunch. What I remember the most, however, was one person in particular; someone who is in every memory I can recall from being at this nursery.

His name was Ben. And he was the only friend I had.

In fact, he was the only friend I felt I ever needed.

I recently found out that it was not through each other that we bonded, but in actual fact it was our mothers who acquainted to begin with; colleagues through work and friends through their two eldest children; Harry and Amy (my older sister). However, I do not recall the first time Ben and I met, only that we have always been together from the very start. Looking back on it now, it seems that that all I remember from my time at nursery and play group are the fond memories I have of Ben and I, running around, asking questions and generally making a huge fuss for the supervisors.

I didn't really make any friends. I didn't really know how to. I thought that Ben was the only friend I would ever have and the only friend I would ever need. We were like Ying and Yang; wherever one was, the other was sure to be lurking somewhere nearby.

It makes me smile to think that I had such a wonderful childhood all because of one special boy.

Eventually the time came for Ben to go primary school with all the other kids and, being younger than Ben, I was scheduled to start a full term later. That meant months away from him, on my own, without anyone to talk to or cause mischief with. And surprisingly enough, I don't remember many memories from my time away from him; all I can recall is wearing a ridiculously pink princess gown on my way to a fancy dress party at the nursery, begging my mother to invite Ben because all the other girls were "boring".

I honestly don't remember the party.

The time soon came for me to progress from nursery to primary school. I was completely unaware (being a 4 year-old) that I was being transferred to Ben's school, a quaint and extremely colourful building with seven or so classrooms and approximately 200 children.

I remember seeing him for the first time in what seemed like forever. As children we don't really count days as they go by; we just run around without a care in the world. I remember it well. I hugged him. I was grinning profusely.

I must have looked like a right nincompoop.

Even as I grew older and made my way from one colourful classroom to the next, it was always Ben that I spent my time with. I knew other people in my class of course but they just weren't Ben. I attempted to befriend a girl named Melissa, but that's a story for another day; she was a lot of hard work.

Through my infant years at the primary school (reception, Year 1 and Year 2) everything was wonderful. I had Ben and he was making friends too; he also appeared to be very popular, mostly due to his friendly demeanour. But it was almost always me that he would choose to spend time with. He was just amazing.

I guess if I think about it in the most fantasising way possible, he was like my prince charming. He could ride a horse and I remember fondly when he came to the bottom of the drive and let me feed his stallion on apples and Polos.

I say he was like my prince charming but I don't imply it in the cheesy damsel-in-distress, I'm-completely-useless sort of way. We depended on each other.

We were a team.

I could get extremely deep here and tell you every fond memory I have of Ben and I, but that would be like telling my life story. And I'm half-way through my word count so we had better save that for another day.

By Year 3 – the start of my 'junior years' at the primary school – everything was normal per usual. I didn't think anything would change because I didn't want anything to change. I was very happy and I wish I cherished the time I had with Ben.

He mentioned he would be moving away – to Australia to be exact. Being my ridiculous self I recalled that mother had mentioned briefly (and I do mean briefly (it was probably once!)) that there was a slight chance we would be moving to Carlisle, in Cumbria. I over-exaggerate a lot. Even today, I still do it. It's now – thank God – a little less excessive. But I just saw this as an opportunity to have an interesting conversation with Ben – something I loved to do (we could talk about anything, no matter how ridiculous) – rather than seeing it as a pre-warning. By February that year, he and his family were packing away everything I had cherished for the last six or so years.

On his last day of school, we had chocolate cake on paper towels and many of the girls were crying when they heard he was leaving. Like I said, he was a people pleaser.

I was very confused when I got home. I've realised over the years that I don't fully register things until they're gone; like funerals for instance. It was the same here. I returned home from school not really sure what to do. I had no other friends. I was just the girl that Ben hanged around with and spoke so fondly of. Mum then said we were meeting him and his family for dinner one last time, at a nearby inn (it was most likely a pub but I'm trying to make this sound more interesting). I saw Ben and I was so ecstatic, everything I was worrying about slipped from my mind; until the end of the evening when he gave me a locket and hugged me goodbye.

That was the last I saw of him – February 5th 2007.

I wish I wasn't so clumsy and forgetful back then. I adored that locket. It was pale pink, with a heart embossed on the outside, with a picture of Ben hidden inside. I don't know where that locket is now. I hope that someday I will find it, tucked away somewhere, not a single scratch ruining its casing. I'm mad at myself for being so irresponsible.

But fortunately everything is working out. After Ben left, I had to make friends and I did, some of whom I am still close to today. They helped me so much and I am so grateful for them all each and every day – they know who they are.

Without Ben, I don't think my childhood would have been so fun, so memorable. The time I spent with Ben were the greatest years of my life so far and when I see him again I will cherish every moment we share.

He's my mate, buddy, other half and best friend.

And I can't wait to see you again,

It's been too long.