Letter to an Old Friend

Dear C.W,

It's been almost 14 years since we've met. Can you believe it? We were in the same preschool class, alongside Andreas whom we played with most of the time. I remember how he taught us how to play with legos, how he obsessed over Yu-Gi-Oh! The only thing he ever wanted to accomplish was building that blue dragon. Now that I think back on it, it's hard to even imagine the fat child-proof legos could do such a thing. But, you can never diminish a child's imagination. He was ever so determined to be successful, and we were ever so determined to remain friends.

Remember watching the Peter Rabbit cartoon while eating lunch? Our teacher became angry that I never ate my peas that day. I still hate them, if you can imagine. That was the day I couldn't use my dominant hand to finish the plate of food; it was busy being held by your own hand. It's crazy that I can recall the memories of our time as children, for now when we pass each other in the hallways at school, there's not even a glance shared.

You and Andreas were my closest friends, we watched each other leave the classroom while the other waited for our ride home, and we anticipated the next day to return to school. I loved the shark game, where we stood under the blue gazebo that doesn't have a floor or stairs, but had a steering wheel. One of us would drive, then yell how we crashlanded, and the entire class would flee to roam the "ocean" while being chased around by "sharks". But my favorite game will always be the slide; where one child would sit on the bottom of it and all the other kids would slide down, their feet hitting the back of another. I usually hated being the one at the top because that meant it was my turn to be the one at the bottom. My fate usually ended falling off into the mud. Luckily I had you to help pull me up; and we had Andreas to keep our imagination active with games and ideas.

Even if you remember this, I pray you don't remember when he moved. The three months before school ended he left; back to where his family lived. He often talked about being Mexican, so I had always assumed that that's where he left to return to. I could be wrong, and I probably am, but wherever he is I hope he's safe and that he remembers us. He moved that day, and that was the same time you stopped being my friend. My memory of you ends after he left, and there are only flashes of us being together. You liked to skip years; because you weren't there in kindergarten through second grade. But in third and fifth we loved each other's company. We had Mrs. Eure's class in third and we rode the same bus in fifth. Ah, the only year that I actually liked riding the bus.

I also pray that you remember, but I'll never confront you about it. It's easy to see the rage and disgust in your eyes when we happen to look at each other. Middle school must've changed you, C.W, because after fifth grade ended, I never had a feeling of friendship towards you. Sixth through Twelfth we never talked, never recalled back on the memories we shared. You just seemed to grow a hatred towards me and I don't know what I did wrong. I, however, won't lie and say I don't feel the same. It's not so much of hate but disdain and confusion. All my heart and brain wants is if you will tell me what has happened to us. If you remember our friendship; if you still think about Andreas and wonder what has happened to him.

My ramblings have to come to an end, so I'll stop bothering you with memories and sorrow on my end. I apologize for whatever I did that caused our friendship to sink like the Titanic. I hope College treats you well and you find someone to make you happy. Enjoy your future, C.W, and maybe, just maybe, I might have a part as your friend once again.

With hope for you,

T.P.