Once upon a time;
no,
this has occurred more than once...
______________________
Once upon life's limited time,
there was a girl, full of heart.
She smiled so much, you would've thought she had claimed all the happiness in the world.
When she began school, kindergarten was a careless bliss, as it is for most children.
She made friends with one boy, whom she thought the world of.
They played together, laughed and talked together (even when class was in session.)
This friendship lasted through first grade, and the first part of second grade.
Each grade wasn't a challenge to the child at all; her teachers always complimented her on how well she did - all of the time.
The girl was in such an elated state, she never thought that the happiness she held onto so tightly could be taken away so easily.
It was snatched away quickly, as if her palms were excessively greased with a deceitful oil, and couldn't hold it, anymore.
The boy that she befriended on the first day of school found a new friend.
They played together, laughed and talked together (even when class was in session.)
There was no such thing as a third wheel or triangle -
the girl was simply shut out.
Whenever she approached him,
shushing the thoughts of why he didn't care for her, anymore,
he had no answer for her.
He shut her out, closing the door of why-nots and a friendship, now gone extinct.
The girl didn't know how to feel.
What to feel.
None of the other children moved as close to her as he did.
Some met her halfway.
Others didn't bother to even take baby
steps toward her.
She sat on the playground by herself.
No one behind her to push her on the swing.
No one behind her to say "Hurry up! I'm coming down the slide right after you!"
No one behind her.
No one beside her.
Occasionally, she would watch her old friend with his new friend play together,
one chasing the other and exchanging smiles.
That crushed her inside.
If a child's mind seemed to spark a rare interest in the girl and decided to talk with her about the random, she would light her heart like a candle.
Recess is over. Time to go inside.
The conversation is over.
Words were shared, but no friendship began.
The candle's small flame is blown out.
______________________
At this point, at this age,
it shouldn't hurt.
This awkward nostalgia and elementary silliness should be buried twelve feet underground - but it's not.
My head can't seem to let go of that pain.
These are the only friendship memories that are halfway decent that my mind has to remember.
It shouldn't hurt, but it does.
It shouldn't be here, but it is.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
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