Life: walks home from my school, your school, my brother's school, your sister's school. It doesn't really matter where from, one of us always ends up meeting the other; bike rides anywhere but home, sometimes we just need to get away. Late night eight-hour phone babbles because neither of us know what will happen once we hang up, but it won't be happy; rain-pattered shoulders because we ran through the courtyard in the rain, we can take a little water. Sore legs from walks around the city; windblown cheeks and watery eyes from the cold winds that seem to spite us on our winter explorations. Darkened skin and lightened hair from hours in the sun nine months out of twelve; cuts and scrapes on otherwise clean skin, from bumps and falls.
Do you remember laughing even while crying, making the other feel better, and crying while laughing, one too many jokes? Do you remember little mannerisms that mattered the world to us; things we knew not to do? Do you remember the stories and peoms we would write together during class in eighth grade; the way the teacher eventually just let us, as long as we did our work? Do you remember our arms gently brushing together as we ripped down hallways we no longer inhabit? Do you remember when we still had a name, a place that tied us together? Do you remember when we thought we would graduate together? Do you remember coming to my homecoming with me because I couldn't go to yours, and the hell we went through to get your principal to sign the release form? Do you remember me?
I remember crying when I got accepted to my magnet school, not out of happiness, but instant regret that stemmed from separating. I remember cold arms made warm. I remember concerned words when there were none. I remember sitting in the park on the swings, listening to each other's mp3 players, sharing music. I remember the way I would clench my right fist when your tiny but sharp nails would dig into my left arm, releasing stress. I remember lead pencil battles in the computer lab and teachers that called us both by one, singular name. I remember sharing homework; geometry at two in the morning. I remember straining our legs, pedaling fast to try to get you home on time because we left the park too late. I remember you.
You remember wrestling in your front yard yesterday? We spent near a half an hour slamming each other to the ground before struggling up again, neither of us willing to give up control. Eventually I pinned you, but your bruises mark me, patches of green and purple against tanned skin that radiate pain every once in a while, casually reminding me that nothing is ever truly won with you; we both sit even, and we won't forget it. Marks from pinning the other down; the bruise on your shoulder and the bruise on my neck prove it. While others cringe away frm the discolored skin, I smile on it affectionately, for I know its meaning.
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