The Boy

When I was younger, there was this little boy who used to sit by the slide with his bright red bubble wand, and giggle quietly as he carefully blew bubbles bigger than his own head.

One day he came up to me as I was struggling on the swings, I had no idea how they worked. This little boy, with his curly brown hair and crooked smile, offered to help me. I thought he would sit in the swing beside me and instruct me on how to do it, but instead he took his position behind me and lightly pushed my back, bringing the swing up with me. Eventually I went higher and higher, I felt like I was soaring through the air. He told me to kick my legs back and forth to keep going, so I did. It was the first time I was having fun at my new school.

At the end of that year, we took a class field trip down to the lake, everyone's parents came, but mine didn't. My mom was just starting to get sick at this point. i didn't want to tell people what was going on, so I stayed off to the side of the lake by myself, building sandcastles with my brand new bucket that the teacher had given me. As I was patting the sides to smooth out my castle a small shadow blocked all my light! I looked up, and it was boy. He asked if he could build sandcastles with me. He had his own bucket, bright red just like his bubble wand, and he sat on the opposite side of my castle and began to build his own.

After that summer passed and first grade began, I saw that same little boy in my class. I quietly took a seat next to him, secretly hoping he would remember me after the summer apart. He did and he grinned when he saw me.

A few weeks later that same boy excitedly cheered from his desk as he got handed his spelling test, he had aced it! He said he couldn't wait to go show his parents. This was when I finally found out the boys name, as he proudly showed me his graded test.

A while later, the boy was gone. The teacher told the class him and his family had moved. I felt really sad, but I didn't know why. I was too shy to ever make friends with anyone, and he had a lot of friends, so we didn't talk. But when he was gone it still upset me. But then, he came back! He had just moved across town from where he once was, now he lived on my street! That day we walked home together, and we did that everyday for the next five years.

We had become best friends, we talked at school, we ate lunch together just the two of us, we rode our bikes together every Sunday. After I taught him to ride of course. But in sixth grade, something changed. He sped home without me most days, and I was left to eat my lunch alone. He was always with his other friends, the friends from five years before. He stopped coming over on Sunday, and he stopped talking to me.

Until one day, him and his friends came up to me in the hallways of school, just before the first bell for class. His friends made fun of the way my hair looked that day, and they teased me about wearing the same hoodie as I had the past two years. All the while he stood next to them laughing. I cried the whole walk home that day.

Still, I wanted my friend back. I constantly thought about all the fun times we had shared together, and how he had the most contagious laughter and smile, you couldn't be sad around him. He knew why I worse the same hoodie, he was the only person I told about my mother being sick.

No matter how badly I wanted to talk to him again, I was still that shy little girl. So I was alone all through middle school, until Junior year. It was late evening and I had just finished studying when my phone rang, and it was the boy. He sounded frantic, he had just gotten his license a week before, and accidentally wrecked his dads brand new car. He wanted to come over until he could figure out how to tell his dad, so i let him, and we were friends again. It was like nothing had changed all these years.

A few short weeks later, my mom passed away. The sickness she had been fighting for all those years had finally overcome her. The boy wanted to come to her funeral, and I wanted someone to be there for me. He held my hand the entire time.

Then, High School graduation, the boy was sitting next to my father as my name was called and I walked across the stage to be handed my diploma. I turned to wave and he was beaming that same crooked smile he had that day at the swings. This was when I knew I loved him.

A month later, we were cheering and dancing in my room. We had both been accepted to our dream schools, and couldn't have been more excited for what the future held. That was until, we found out our schools were different, we wouldn't be around each other anymore. He held me while I cried, he knew I didn't want to move away from my only friend. But we both had to do it.

We spent our entire last day in our hometown together, riding bikes and walking along the way we had walked to school all those years ago. We did a lot of fun things that day, and that night he slept at my house on the couch, I cried that night too.

The next day at the airport, we hugged each other for a long time before our flights came. When it was finally time for us to leave, as I pulled away I noticed he was holding back tears, the same as me. I almost cried then and there, but I didn't. I tried to be strong to make it easier for both of us. He was leaving his friend, but for me, I was leaving someone who was so much more than just a friend.

He called everyday to tell me how he was. He told me about his school, the people, the weather, his homework, he told me every little detail, and I told him just the same. It wasn't as bad as it was those first few days, I was getting used to it. I still desperately wished to be back in town with him and everything I had ever known, but I was learning to accept the way things were. But, after the first month. He slowly began to call less and less, blaming it on the work load he had been given.

Eventually, he didn't call at all. Up until the last time he had said it was because of how busy he was, but I knew he had just made new friends, and he had met a girl. I figured she wouldn't have been happy with him calling another girl everyday, so he didn't. I was a friend he had known before, but know he had moved on. To new friends, and better things.

Another few months later, I got a mail from his college address. It was an invitation to his wedding, to that same girl he had told me about in that last phone call. I wanted to see him, but I couldn't bare to see him with someone else. So I didn't go. I expected a call, asking me where I had been and telling me all about, but weeks after nothing came. It was the same as it had been before I received the invite.

My birthday was coming up, and we had gotten each other cards every year, I hoped he would send one, but deep down I had accepted that he wouldn't, and just like I feared, nothing came. His birthday was coming up in a few weeks, I decided I would let him be, and not send anything. This was how he wanted it to be.

I never heard from him again, I finished college and went back to our hometown. He had sold the house given to him by his parents, and moved closer to hers. I finally got up the courage to just call, only to find out his number had been changed. It had been years since he last called, so I should have known it would be different.

I was in love with the boy, the boy who blew bubbles by the slide, and the boy he stopped calling me to tell me how he was. I was in love with the boy, and he would never know.

Author's Note

A, revised version of a previous poem I wrote. Changed into a story.

Reviews

[Fang]

Wow, this is depressing and personal. But it is well written and very well constructed. I look forward to reading more of your work.

[JazmanianDevil]

Wow this was deep and really depressing. It's way too real and really shows how life can be sometimes. I really liked reading it. It was easy to follow, it kept my interest all the way to the end. The only thing that was a little weird was that near the end (the scene at the airport) you switched point of views. The protagonist had addressed the audience as "you" but I think you meant "he". It confused me for a moment, but other than that it was a great story!