I wish that in my childhood I had not lost my best friend – in such a way that the blame is to be laid upon both of us.
The first time I saw someone make a post in the form of a letter I felt compelled to write the following letter for my own benefit, since there would be no point in sending it.
To send it, now, would be strange.
You’re not busy on Friday night, are you? Just checking- I knew you wouldn’t be. So we will find ourselves on the phone in front of our separate televisions once again.
I think your phone is cordless and you could be sitting anywhere, but ours is the dumb old kind (not that I would say that aloud. Aloud, it is a phone that I love for being in our family as long as I can remember) and I’ll sit on the floor because its cord doesn’t reach the couch. Did you know this will become a sensation I remember well? Switching arms as they get tired, the phone pressing first on one ear and then the other, my bum and my knees getting sore so that I’m one mass of fidgets.
Did you know, that later I won’t be able to remember how much we actually spoke while we watched our Friday night cartoons? I’ll think a bit and then assume we hardly said a thing, because we had to read the subtitles as we went, and although I have become someone who exclaims during shows I don’t remember being that way six years ago.
Yet I did, and still do, cry easily at sad scenes. Did you know, there were a few times when I was crying on the other end of the phone? I was worried you would notice and tease me.
Because I think we both knew on some level that those shows were mostly silliness. Still, you told me about them, and we both happened to like them, as we happened to like a lot of similar things. We did well working on homework together, too. Anyway, I made damn sure my family wasn’t around to interrupt our Friday night cartoons.
Those were our best phone calls. Thanks, and miss you.
If I ever have children I want to explain a few things that my parents never did. The fragility of egos and friendships in high school, the utility in looking at yourself objectively now and then, the importance of honesty as greater than the importance of kind lies.
Maybe, if those hypothetical children actually listen to me, they will emerge from high school without any guilt from a falling-out. It’s been years but I still often regret my mistakes.