Once

I use to hate everyone, of course I still do, but less- well sort of. Specifically girls, they were too soft, mushy gushy and just, girly. Blegh. I hated them because I wasn't anything like them, I played with dirt and worms, I wore shorts and jeans and turtlenecks and all that somewhat boyish stuff.

Now, I kind of prefer them, they're more funnier and nicer and... prettier. The way they smile and laugh at my jokes, we can cuddle and call it a friend thing without blushing. We can share clothes and hold hands and act as if its a friend thing, we can say 'I love you' and act as if its a friend thing, we can- you get my drift.

There used to be this one girl in particular. Her name was Jolie, she's French but preferred Italy. She always read books about romance and fairytale, whilst I read about horror and comedy. Just from that you should get the hint that we were complete opposites. But we were still attached by the brain, we were extremely close back in summer camp cause we were the two foreigners in the club but now, well now I'm 87 with grandchildren.

Now I know what you're thinking, "how in the hell could you remember something from at least 60+ years ago?!" well to answer your question. It's the only thing I can remember, I forgot my wedding day, I forgot my husband's birthday but since he passed away a few years ago, I shouldn't really care. Don't get it twisted, I still love him but he's dead, I can't love someone who's dead. Anyways let's get started with the story shall we?