I do.
I do every single day.
Sometimes I think I miss them more than the ones I still talk to once in a while.
There’s something so strangely soothing and painfully sharp about revisiting the places we used to go together. Or seeing a snack you’d never leave the store without.
The parks feel so empty now that you’re not here with me. I want to teach you things again. How to fly a kite. How to use roller skates. How to hide candies better. I still remember the way you’d laugh when we failed miserably at it.
I hope your parents treat you better now.
The mark from your last attempt at riding that scooter is still there. The fence is still bent. No one ever fixed it. Not even after all these years. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. Maybe it’s just comforting to have proof that you were real, that we were real.
I shouldn’t have hyped you up like that. Maybe things would have been different if I hadn’t.
I don’t have any photos of us. Not even of you. It’s like you’re slipping away piece by piece, and I can’t hold on to what’s left.
I think I’m starting to say your name wrong.
Why did you forget me?
I'm sorry
Other than her, I miss another person. It’s a family member. Nothing happened to her, she’s still there at the holiday dinner. Yet it feels different. She doesn’t make us cute gifts anymore. She doesn’t tell me stories with a smile anymore.
Why did you change?
I know everyone is supposed to change, that’s how we adapt. That’s how we’re meant to be.
I just wish that there was still a piece of you who thought of me dearly.
I remember how easily you used to entrust me with secrets.
I wasn’t the type to tell secrets that easily, but after you stopped telling me yours, I find myself oversharing to everyone I meet.
Do you remember that day when we sneaked out of the busy crowded living room into our own little space? We ran through the kitchen, hiding behind walls, and held our breath at the slightest noise like we were ninjas.
We quickly grabbed what we had bought earlier that day with our grandpa, a big vanilla yogurt with dark chocolate chips and a huge bag of marshmallows. We were in such a hurry that we only got one spoon.
The yogurt isn’t as sweet as I remember it, and the bags now look small. I wonder if it was always like this and I just didn’t notice.
Anyway, we sneaked inside a part of the house that wasn’t finished back then. It was pretty much considered our place, our little corner with no rules and no adults.
They renovated it now. Everything we had as kids is gone. The place down stairs where we used to pretend we were all grown up and working is gone.
We sat under a pink umbrella that was designed to hide you from the sun. I don’t know what we were hiding from, but I’ve never felt safer in that house.
I was scared of the others. I still am. You always teased me about it yet found a way to comfort me. You promised we were going to leave this place and move in together. That you were going to hold me close through every thunderstorm and that I’d never ever have to cry alone again. We could have as many roommates as we wanted. We could eat ice cream and marshmallows three times a day for breakfast, lunch, and even dinner.
I never liked them that much, just tolerated them, yet either way, I was excited.
I couldn’t wait to leave that house. No more arguments, no more drunk men screaming at each other, or a football team that couldn’t even hear them. No more rooms that smelled like smoke
Sadly or not, my room now always smells like that. Our neighbors smoke almost every day, so it pretty much gets into my room as well, though I rarely notice the smell.
I wonder if you started smoking as well.
You used to sing me songs. You picked up the guitar and sang all types of melodies. I rarely knew the lyrics, but I tried to sing along anyway. I never understood the meaning of them. You said I’d understand when I got older. We both hated that phrase, but you used it so often.
I started using it too. Not a lot, just from time to time. Kids react so silly when they hear it. I understand why you said it so often. But in the end, I explain what the words mean. I don’t like keeping others waiting.
You used to be so cruel sometimes.
Will you invite me to your house again soon? I promise I won’t get scared this time. I’m all grown up now.