I could almost feel the damp of the mist on my skin; the grass would have been like soft velvet. Eyes barely touched the scenery around me, but I knew this unfamiliar sight so well. You might say that I knew it as well as my own house, my bedroom.

The motorcycle stood right beside me, just waiting. I didn’t need to be told what to do. I’d never used one before, never even ridden behind a loved one. But there I was, almost gliding with ease along the cobblestone track. The wind pushed my hair behind me with care like an adoring parent, and the sun shone as if its only purpose was to warm my face. I could just see the glistening lake in the distance; families dotted around it like constellations. That’s where I was heading; that was my destination.

But I was being followed; there was a boy behind me driving a similar vehicle. He reminded me of someone. And he was laughing, as if he had not a care in the world. He laughed as he manoeuvred his motorcycle closer and closer. As people around us screamed and scattered like small birds. And he laughed as we collided.

I didn’t blame him, of course I didn’t. Neither of us even had a scratch. We just lay there on the grass, watching the day go by, and not once did the two of us utter a single syllable for what felt like hours. He was older than me, I was sure of it. His hair dark and messy- like mine usually was- and his eyes a soft hazel, but those things were unimportant, and I barely noticed them.

His name formed upon my lips, and I finally spoke, but all he did was smile in return. It was such a warm and gentle expression.

Then I noticed; he was drawing. Drawing those who sat chatting nearby, their conversation inaudible. I never caught a glimpse of his pictures, but I knew that they would be beautiful. He worked attentively, occasionally glancing up at his subject for just a second. The surge of adoration grew inside of me, although what drove it I’d never know. My arms wrapped around his frame, pulling myself closer and closer until I could almost have heard his heart beating. It was so soft and warm, kind and loving, like a baby bird tucked carefully under the feathery bed of its mother. Would it have been stupid to say that I was in love? Of course I couldn’t be, what a ridiculous idea. I barely knew him at all. But that’s what it felt like, as real as it could be in that moment in time.

How long did we stay there? I don’t know. It felt like the seasons came and passed around us, despite how logically impossible that was. I think he even drew me at one point, but I never looked up from where I lay curled up by his side. I just wanted to stay there forever, where all my worries would vanish, and I could just smile secretly to myself.

But that could not last forever. Soon I sat at a friend’s house, chattering away as we do, sharing conversations and biscuits. Somebody broke the news, I can’t remember who exactly:

“He’s leaving town.”

I ran; I sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me. And there he was, that boy I met by the lakeside. Leaving without so much as a goodbye.

I did beg him not to leave. I tried as hard as I could, grovelling at his feet, pulling at his clothes. I tried everything. Did I cry? I think I must have, although I can’t quite remember it as he walked off into the distance. He was gone forever.

Would he even remember me, as I mourned for him? I don’t know. I’ll never know. I found the last resort, a telephone. But the keys were strange, confusing, in fact they weren’t even numbers at all… I dialled again and again, not knowing what I was doing, crying for help, crying for him. Fingers slipped over the buttons in a confusing jumble.

Wet, glistening tears poured down my face. I was in bed, in my own room at home. Light seeped through the gap in the curtains, and I could the warmth on my skin. I just couldn’t stop crying.