The One That Got Away

Dear J,
4 years ago you convinced me to sit with you on the train and I didn’t let you go ever. We weren’t exactly the greatest friends: our greatest way of bonding at the time was being annoying to each other. I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I did or know half the people I do now. You have been my Superman for so long, you’ve even saved my life a few times. Although, my greatest regret in high school will always be that I never told you that you were my best friend in 10th grade.  You asked me when you were the closest friend I had. There wasn’t anyone I talked to more at that point. I’m sure you have a lot of girls who could tell you similar stories, but I want you to know that I did too. I was probably never your closest friend, but I will always cherish how I got to make you laugh, how I was there in times no one else was, and every afternoon we went home together talking about the infinite possibilities in life.  I’ll miss reading the news with you and talking politics and sharing my grits. It seems like just yesterday I explained grits to you, despite the fact that it had been explained to you a million times. I would be okay forgetting the time we shared Erica as a best friend, and I’m sure you would too.  With all the girls you got to be with and have as friends during high school, I’m sure I’ll be forgotten shortly after this, but know for this moment how important you were to me. You may never even cafe, but I get to leave you knowing that you spent a fair share of high school with a guy you would never give a second thought about even if I was a weirdo- I  was YOUR weirdo. Even if I’m the 20th person that says that to you today. I won’t deny that I called you egotistical before, but you deserve so much of what you’ve gotten, especially the recognition.Maybe one day the school will even pay you for all the free labor you did; everyone knows the school would fall apart without you.
Remember when you become a big shot, you, Tony and I are going to have breakfast after church on Sunday. We’ll sit at the same table on the patio,  because you’ll make some spot your own. We’ll share all the gossip from around town that we’ve heard and were never supposed to share. At some point, we’ll break into a fight just as we always do, but we’ll get over it in short order.
On that day, just like everyday, we always walk out arm in arm; me, enjoying every minute of it, and you, trying to pretend like it’s all no big deal.

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About the Author

Andrew Walker Watson is a sophmore International Studies Major. He loves Brazilian rap music, discovering useless facts, and, naturally, writing. If he could ever stop staring out into space, he would like to start a global movement to change the world and guest host Saturday Night Live.