Remember Me

Hey,

Remember the sandlot behind the school? I practically forced you to dig up all the shells we found there. You told me it was a beach, "like a bajillion years ago," and like the idiot I was I believed you. I guess were weren't as stupid as I'd thought though, because you were exactly right. It was an ocean; those seashells had been there for decades before we'd come along and dug them all up. They'd been undisturbed, until us. I guess we're the disturbers, you and I.

I know you probably don't remember me, and this is supposed to be me finally telling you how I feel, but I don't think I can. I just kind of wanted to reminisce over the times we would never share.

Remember the tree in the middle of town? You and me snuck away from the tour guide's group to hang out under that tree. I miss that goddamn tree. Remember how the only color its leaves ever were was red? I remember how the branches drooped so low, you'd have to duck to get underneath the tree, and it was like Narnia for us. You'd never heard of Narnia back then, but you agreed with me nonetheless. Our little Narnia was under that tree; that tree with promiscuities and love letters carved so deep into its bark it looked more like clay than wood. We tried writing our names on that tree too. If I could take you out one last time, I'd take you to that tree. We could write our names all over that bark until the wood tore off and that damn tree fell.

I think if the tree were to fall, I wouldn't.

I remember the Conrad's right around the corner from that damn tree too. Hell, if you didn't remember the Conrad's I'm not sure what I'd do. I remember you stealing that girl's chocolate lolly and giving it to me. Man, I don't think I'd ever loved a boy more than when you showed up with two chocolate lollies instead of one, taking a right chomp out of mine before handing it to me. I'd steal all the chocolate from Conrad's if it meant I could see you again.

Even with all the money in the world, I wouldn't want our dates to change. I wouldn't want that stupid tree to change. I would laugh and give you that kiss you'd always wanted. I'd finally say yes to your stupid, idiotic, beautiful marriage proposal. I'd flaunt my ring pop in front of all the girls who'd look at you. If I could have one last perfect date with you, it would be just you and me, sitting under that tree with our chocolate lollies, remembering all the things we wished we could have done together.

Love

C