>>122454I met my husband many, many years ago when we were both 8 or 9 years old. We had recently moved in and his family was visiting the old lady next door who turns out was his grandmother and things started when he accidentally kicked his ball over our garden fence. I was just in the garden playing on my swing set. His little head popped over and smiled at me and said hi, he asked for his ball back and then invited me over to play with him. Turns out we were the same age but he lived around an hour away which was why he only appeared on weekends and spent the entire day at his grandmothers.
Every time he visited from then onwards I'd get excited when I saw their car or he came to knock on our door inviting me to play. In the summer we'd ride my bike around the neighbourhood and through the park, we shared ice creams, climbed trees, fed ducks at the parks pond and in the winter we built snowmen and igloos.
I quickly became infatuated with him. Looks wise he was nothing special back then, he even had a goofy haircut that looked like he lost a fight with a pair of scissors but his radiant personality and boyish charms more than compensated for his looks. I found him to be friendly, outgoing, caring, kind, excitable, sporty and above all else considerate. He encouraged me in our games and never got impatient or mad. He used to hold my hand a lot. Originally it was only when crossing the street because I wasn't allowed to cross by myself, but then whenever we were walking to the park or to the shop to get drinks or snacks he'd extend his hand and I'd take it.
Then, one day he stopped coming over. Turns out his mother had a really bad argument with his grandmother and they stopped visiting her. It really hit me hard because unbeknownst to him, he was my only friend. I didn't have any friends in my school and was being bullied pretty badly. Our playtime on the weekends got me through a lot of rough weeks at school and even after he stopped coming over the memories and things he'd said to me allowed me to just about brush off the childish and mean insults the kids threw at me. I figured if he liked me and he liked playing with me and he thought I was cool then anything they said were just stupid lies. I clung to those memories and even on really, really rough days I'd remember zooming down hills with him on my bike or him cleaning up a graze on my knee when I'd fallen over and rubbing my back when I cried. The time I'd spent with him was so short in comparison to my school career but they provided a lot of strength.
Many, many years later I transferred schools when highschool rolled around. I figured new school new start and I might stand a chance of actually enjoying my last 2 years of school before going off to university. There was an assembly for freshman class, we were all stood in the sports hall and just for a moment a boy far taller than I remembered, with a way cooler haircut, pierced ears, clear skin and those gorgeous green eyes turned to speak to his friend next to him 2 rows in front of me.
There. He. Was.
I knew exactly who I was looking at the moment my eyes locked onto his. Those beautiful emerald eyes were a dead giveaway. I got so excited I balled up my hands and in spite of trying not to I could feel myself trembling with joy and excitement. "IT'S HIM! IT'S ROY! I'VE FOUND HIM! I CAN'T BELIEVE MY LUCK! THIS IS GOING TO BE AMAZING!"
I didn't have the nerve to approach him right away, I agonized over what I'd say and was a little frightened that he wouldn't remember me. It would have devastated me if he said "Sorry. Who are you?" so for a week I sort of stalked him. Found out who his buddies were, what classes he had etc. It seemed the longer I watched and waited, the harder it was to approach him. I noticed a lot of things about his mannerisms that made me sing on the inside, the way he folded his arm up and played with his earrings when reading, how just like back when we were much smaller he always went for vanilla instead of chocolate, how he always avoided carb-heavy foods and basically just ate meat and salad for lunch. The way his butt looked when he walked. That incredible smile he shone when he was helping someone. It was all amazing, I was overjoyed that he was every bit the boy I remembered and more. To stay hidden I only observed him whilst moving or when sitting down to lunch or in the library and I'd always sit behind him and off to the side with my bag as cover. It seemed that he was as oblivious as he always was.
I was sitting down eating lunch before my music class. It was one of the few classes that we shared and in the week prior he ate before going too, but he was nowhere to be found. I was concentrating on my book and eating my sandwich when all of a sudden he sat down right next to me and stared at me with that big silly smile. I was mid-chew so I covered my mouth and looked away whilst I gulped down the rest of that bite and turned back to face him.
"Do you remember me?" He asked, looking a little unsure of himself.
My mind raced. Did I want to be cool? aloof? excitable? nonchalant? This was completely against my plans, but the longer I took the more uncomfortable he looked so I just spoke from the heart and what came out was "Of course I remember you. I've missed you for years."
