Blond hair and brown eyes. You were shorter than me for the longest time. I knew secrets about you. We told each other everything. Your favorite color is purple (the manly kind of purple like the Viking jerseys not the sissy light purple that is closer to pink).You want to be a pilot when you grow up which is ironic because you are afraid of heights. Your middle name is Mitchell and your birthday is March 14. I even know who you had a crush on in fourth grade, but that doesn't matter. You said that we were friends. Things change. Our story didn't last long. Now that it's over, it's time that I told it. Our story began long before we met, in a church during a piano recital.

First Sight

You probably don't know this but the first time I saw you I thought you were amazing. We were in the third grade, or was it second? I truly can't remember. All I know is that I believed you were a piano prodigy. You were confident to the point of cockiness. But when I heard you play I felt both jealousy and a strong wish to know you. That's all I know about our past before we met. It might have been some type of foreshadowing. That I would always think of you as amazing and you would never take time to truly notice me.

The Alphabet

I guess I should blame the alphabet for ever meeting you in the first place. In fifth grade it was only the beginning for me. All my friends were in a different class and I was lonely. Something that in later years I would be very familiar with. But at the time it was my first true shockwave of being the outsider. I liked you from the start. Although I didn't know that you were the prodigy boy from piano, I still thought you were cool. There was something about you that made me take an instant liking to you. Maybe it was just that I thought you were cute, but I think it might have been something more that my ten year old mind just didn't understand quite yet. Back to why I blame the alphabet. Our last names sit next to each other. E and F. You would always be put by me. The first time we really talked was in gym sometime in October. In gym we were always put in alphabetical order. I don't even remember what we talked about, but I do know that the talking didn't stop. We soon sat next to each other in our class. We talked when we were outside. We talked during class (and often got in trouble for it). We talked all the time about everything and it didn't matter that you were a boy and I was a girl. At the time I thanked the alphabet because it brought me a new best friend. We were so close, and I loved you so much. I would worry about you and you would worry about me. I freaked out when you had pneumonia and you were constantly asking if I needed my inhaler. You even started referring to me as mom (something you would continue to call me to the very end). You made me feel loved in a way I had never known before. We had a close bond that I thought would never break. I wish everything could have stayed the way it was in fifth grade.

Stupid Boy

The crumbling of our friendship began with one stupid boy. It's funny how the beginning of the end started just where we first became friends. He asked us if we were dating. The answer was of course no, but it struck something inside of me. For three days I didn't talk to you. I couldn't. I was so embarrassed at what the boy had said that I just couldn't face you. There would be many boys and girls just like him with that same question. But that first time made us see that there was something different in our friendship, because of that stupid boy we realized that one thing made us truly different. You were a boy and I was a girl and nothing could change that.


Life went on as normal for a while. You even let me hug you on the last day of school. You came to both the plays that I was in over that summer, and it was as if everything was alright. And then sixth grade came. We were in different classes, and had nothing the same except for choir. That is when the slow deterioration of our friendship took a different turn. The fact that I only saw you at the end of the day or at recess began to separate us. You gained new friends and soon you didn't want to wait for me at the end of the day, and you didn't want me to wait for you. We still talked and more often than not we would walk together at the end of the day, but things were changing. We were becoming two separate people again, because we were separated. The end of the year came and you still let me hug you. But I should have noticed something was different, you forced me into a place where nobody would see us. In fifth grade you didn't seem to care if anyone saw, but then in sixth grade you seemed almost embarrassed. I blame all this on us being separated. Maybe if we had been in the same class we would still be friends.

Unlucky Seven

I've said it before that our friendship's crumble was slow, but in the seventh grade the pace quickened. Sometimes you seemed to not want to be near me. Other times it was like you still cared. I blamed all your in and out and up and down on puberty. I have one picture of us from seventh grade. It's at a parade on my birthday. You never got me anything for my birthday for all the years we were friends; I've got you a gift every year, even after the split. Time went on and we became farther apart. Many times I tried to heel our friendship by giving emotional speeches. I realize now my speeches could have made things worse, I seemed too clingy. There was a space building up and every day it seemed to get bigger. We were running in different directions and there was no way of turning around. All I could do was look back and watch as the distance between us grew. At the end of the year there was no hug and you didn't wait for me. I came home crying. That would be the first time you made me cry and it would not be the last.


That summer we worked together at the hospital as volunteers. We seemed so close like we were in fifth grade again. We talked and laughed you even taught me how to play solitaire (a game I would later be obsessed with). We played card games and shared things just like before and I truly felt like things were getting better. The only reason it was like that was because no one was around. Had there been other kids our age there, you might have not acted like you did. What I know now; it only lasted for that summer and things did not get better.

The End

The end came in the eighth grade, right around my birthday. The beginning of the year started with a change. The way I dressed. I started wearing tighter shirts and I tried to look nice. Prior to that year the clothes I wore were baggy and didn't show my figure. I'm sure you noticed that my chest is kind of big and wearing those tighter shirts made me different. I noticed that you didn't look at me the same after that. We didn't ride the bus together and we didn't talk as much. I had to ask you to ride the bus with me just to get you to notice. I made a mistake one day and forgot who I was with. My shirt was riding low and like I always did, I hiked it back up. The look on your face was priceless. I'm sorry for that, it must have been awkward. Time went on and our friendship was sick. I wish I had known that it was terminal. One day on the bus just before the end I sat with you. I remember looking at you and asking if you were embarrassed to be my friend. You said no. I tried to sit with you later, putting out that you had said you were not embarrassed to be my friend. You told me not to quote you. I started glaring at you in hopes that it would catch your attention. In some ways our friendship ended because of me. You took it badly and I see now I should have just talked to you, I was wrong. The last real conversation I remember having with you was the day before my birthday. After that we didn't talk unless we had to. One day we were at a competition for our knowledge bowl team. We were on the bus and you were fighting with another boy over his iPod. You hit him. You. Hit. Him. I stared at you as he began to shed tears. "What's wrong with you?" I yelled. Your only response was "What's wrong with you?" After that the end came and hit me harder than I could have ever thought. Every day I waited to see if you would return to me. I dreamed over and over again that we would be friends again. It didn't happen. We were over and that was it.


After you were out of my life everything else seemed to follow you. My other friends didn't take notice of me and I was beginning to feel lonely even when other people were around. I watched you and waited for those few times that you looked over at me. Somehow it made me feel better that you did look at me, but you never spoke to me. Soon having you look at me was just a reminder that we did not talk and we were not the Us I remembered. I never would have believed that you would be the first boy to break my heart, but you were, without us ever being in love. I stopped sitting with my friends and started sitting with other people. They seemed to notice me. I felt like I was beginning to fit in with my own group. They understood my pain that came from you. But they didn't understand why I still loved you. They told me to let go, but I couldn't. I kept up hope, but time went on and you avoided me at all costs. You became really good at avoiding me. On your birthday I gave you one last gift, a keychain I bought for you in Canada, because I always knew that you wanted to travel, and some candy, because like me you always had a sweet tooth. You never said thank you and after that things were still the same. It was a test in a way, and you failed. I gave up on you. I know now that there is no hope to ever have you back. I love you still, and I think that I always will love you.


There are probably many reasons that our friendship ended. Maybe you just got tired of being made fun of for having a girl as a friend. Maybe we just too different or that we were just too the same. There is even the slight chance that you began to see me as a girl and developed feelings. I don't think that one is true, though I wish it was. What I do know is that all things must come to an end. I only wish that our end could have come later on, but that didn't happen and now my story is finished. Years from now you will be a distant memory, something that didn't last. I have heard once that it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I wish I had never met you. I wish that you were still here. I love you and I hate you. But it's time that I moved on. I hope you have a good life. I hope that you remember me, but I hope that you do not dwell on the end as I have. Remember the good times, and don't look back on us with the same sadness and anger as me. Don't forget me either, for that would be a punishment even I don't deserve. This is it. Good-bye Jacob.

One Last Hurrah (1 year later)

Your birthday came and went, and I didn't even notice. This was the first time in four years that I didn't do anything, or get you anything. It's been over a year now, and I think that I've really, finally moved on. So this really is the end, no more pain, I've actually healed. I will always wonder; you're going to be my forever "What if?" But that doesn't matter anymore. It feels like for the first time in a long time, I'm breathing again. And it's amazing.

Cordie's note: Just a little something I wrote at the end of eighth grade and the 1 year later in ninth. It really isn't that good, but I felt like posting it anyways.