A Moment From Childhood

A Moment From Childhood

Childhood love, a pure and innocent form, heavily subjected to the changing environment around the star crossed lovers. I don’t remember his face anymore, his name escaped my brain long ago. But those moments we had, oh those wonderful moments we had shall never leave me; they are a part of me at this point, they are what I used to remember that the world can’t be all evil. Him and I used to go climbing the rocks around the apartment complex we lived in together, just the two of us on what seemed to be the top of the world; well it was the top of ours. All that ever crossed my mind was the cool wind going through my hair, trying to keep us down but we always fought it, the sun shining on my face and neck trying to warn us that this would soon burn, but that fun was filling my growing heart, and that’s all that ever mattered to me. The cool yet warm rock we were climbing seemed like a bed to me, the soft moss covering every crack providing the bugs a place to gawk at us, and those fresh raspberries growing at the bottom with their thorns hiding from our sight, hoping we would fall and see the true danger of our ways. But those damn trees were covering us from all of our too complicated troubles, we were truly free and protected there, we had our own little perfection. 

While the other children may have joined us for a few adventures, though they never were a part of the young bond we had. We were the only ones that understood the other. WIth him, it was just pure freedom. Those rocks gave us something that we never had before, a true childhood. But like everything else in our lives, that wouldn’t last long. The last adventure was soon on the way and it started with going to his apartment. He wanted to show me a pokemon first aid kit. I was skeptical, the plan running through my head just trying to make the best decision. But he soon convinced me to go along. And I found us standing in the two bedroom apartment shaped just like mine but with a strong cleaning smell and a large sticker art on the wall, but something was strange about him. This confident guy had awkwardness just oozing from him for some reason. All I could tell was that the first aid kit wasn’t why he wanted me there, I knew he wanted to say something important to me. I saw the hand going to the back of his neck to comfort himself, and then I watched his mouth slowly and slightly part just about to tell me. But I would never know because then his mother came in and I quickly went out. 

I wouldn’t see him again for a while after that. My foggy memories make me forget how long exactly but it was long enough. My childhood innocents barely told me something could have been wrong but I felt that way about everyone in my life that left. And because of this constant loss I went through; I didn’t realize that losing someone was bad. The last time I would ever see him was when his mother was helping him walk to their black car with yellow spray paint and a green cannon perched on top filled to the top with boxes and all their important belongings, a makeshift cast wrapped around his right foot. And then my biggest regret was made, I walked past without saying anything, not even taking a glance back at him. 

It might have just been a small childhood love, no hint of any crushes or anything, just a pure friendship, yet these long tears are running rampant down my face as I write this. Even though I don’t know his face, even though I barely remember his name; I remember that feeling I had whenever I was with him. I remember the first time I ever felt free, my small worries and pain truly slipped away around him. I only need to remember the true him and I gratefully do.

Does he even remember me, or think about me the way I do him? What is he up to in life now? Did he ever find a new rock to climb, one taller than the rest? The hardest part about this story is knowing that I will never ever meet with him again; he was one moment of my life and there will never be a sequel to this story. Should you say goodbye to a memory? Because I feel like there is a part of me that just clings to our adventures, just wishing for one more moment, wishing to experience a childhood love once more. While I wish I could forget my biggest regret and him along with it as a way to keep away the feeling of abandonment at bay, maybe those few moments I had with him, the few good moments of my childhood, is what is keeping me going now. If only I hadn’t walked past him. If only I had said goodbye, even if it was just a small wave. If only I had just one more moment.