Timeless

They’re just friends. At least that’s what she used to tell herself. She met him when they were both four, on the playground sandbox that was finally starting to dry off from the weekend rain. Their moms both led them there after hours of nonstop begging (it’s not raining, it’s sprinkling, oh can’t we go, pleasepleaseplease) and the playground was happily empty but for the two of them. 

He’d been trying to make a sand castle, a big one with spires, a moat, a dragon for the knight inside to fight. She was making a cake for her mom’s birthday (all by herself, of course!). She decorated it with flowers, with shiny little rocks, with little pictures of fairies, with everything that just screamed girl. 

But then a bucket of sand that was supposed to be a big wave of water had ruined her masterpiece, and some had gotten in her eye. She stumbled around, and crushed the castle’s dragon before the knight could get to slaying it. She picked a fight with him, but neither of them won; in the end, they were just annoyed, dirty, exhausted, crusted with the remains of castle and cake. Their moms had stopped chatting and had ran over to their children, simultaneously brushing them off and giving them a verbal lashing. What did I say about fighting? If you can’t play nicely with the other children, we’re going home right away! 

They said sorry to each other with the impudence of little-kid apologies, then “played nicely” for the rest of the hour-afternoon-day. And by the time their moms began to drag them home, they were best friends-only friends. 

And ten years passed. It’s the very first day of high school, and she’s so nervous she nearly puts her shirt on inside out and trips on the way down the stairs. She’s scared that today is the day he will finally abandon her and find some of his should-have-been would-have-been friends in the new crowd of teenagers with whom he might actually be happy (she can’t really believe that he’s truly happy with her). But it was her whom he had met in the sandbox, so he was her friend, only hers. And she is ashamed for having thought such a selfish thought, but it’s only for a moment. Staystaystay, please, stay. She sososo wants to keep him all to herself, to keep him from discovering all of these people better than her, to keep him from leaving, because he’s her best friend-only friend. 

He says he’ll never leave her, but she’s seen the crude letters etched into the bathroom stalls K-A-Y-L-A-L-O-V-E-S-T-H-O-M-A-S and heard the song repeated since elementary school Kayla and Thomas sitting in a tree… She wouldn’t blame him if he just disappeared one day. In a way, she wouldn’t even be surprised. But he promises that he won’t leave. Promises to be her best friend-only friend forever.

But then he breaks his promise. He’s there on the first day of school, and the rest of the week, and she calms down a bit. But week after week, month after month, she sees him a bit less, and when she does, he’s always with another friend. Every time she tries to talk to him, he’s busy, oh-so-busy, and can’t talk right now, sorry I have homework, I’ll see you later, tell me about this over the weekend? And she lets him go, because she knows he’ll be back. He will, right? But then he doesn’t pick up his phone, doesn’t answer her messages, won’t check his e-mail, won’t talk to her. And all she can think is, best friend-only friend… stay? 

These days, she doesn’t see anyone. She stays inside, drowning her sorrows with pints of Ben&Jerry’s, and blasts music so loud she can’t hear her thoughts. She lets the tears flow down and cuddles with the stuffed golden retriever that she got from him for her eleventh birthday – I thought you’d like this, I saw it in the store and it reminded me of you – and tried to remember what he used to say to help her feel better… It’s okay, I’m here, I’ll be here… forever? She keeps her room dark and nurtures her broken heart. Because this was a special type of heartbreak, right? A special type of love? 

And she hates herself for wallowing in her self-made pond of pity, but maybe she deserves it for wanting to keep him all to herself. But she just wants to smile and laugh and pretend everything’s okay, wants to go to school and learn and have fun like the rest of them. Because plenty of people lose friends, and so this must mean that there’s something wrong with her, but there isn’t, there truly isn’t, she just wants him back. She wants to talk to him so badly but then she picks up her phone and dials and I’m sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialed, please check the number and try – 

And all she wants to do is to try, but she can’t pull on the rope to bring him back, because he’s not on the other end anymore. He’s not trying to come back and she wants to trytrytry to change this, to go back to best friend-only friend but she can’t do anything by herself. And she wants to call again so badly, walk to his house and ring the doorbell… 

But she can’t and she won’t and she doesn’t because he’s left her all alone and she doesn’t want to bother him, annoy him and keep him away forever (but she still can’t help but wonder, what if he picks up this time? what if he’s just been busy? what if?) 

And she goes through the rest of high school with the top still spinning, in a dream, wishing he were there to celebrate her 4.2 GPA, sixteenth birthday, first pet (just a cute little hamster, it reminded her of him). But slowly he fades. She remembers the times that were but doesn’t waste her precious little time on what ifs because she’s only got this one life and he doesn’t deserve any more than he’s already taken. And so she stops crying over, stops hiding, stops pining for his friendship because she knows that her once best friend-only friend didn’t stay. 

Then, suddenly, it’s her senior year of high school, and things are finally starting to get better for her. She’s got her new friends who promise to stay, and she’s taken all her tests and been accepted by her colleges, and found her place in the world, and things are finally good. She’s done with trivial things like lost childhood friends (best friend-only friend), dragons and fairy cakes and sandboxes (and long-ago children laughing, playing, being). She finally knows what she wants and she marches straight ahead. No past for her, no lost friends, no sad memories, just the future. 

It has been forever since she’s seen him or thought about him (I wonder how he’s doing, what college is he going to) but then there’s a wave and a smile and she stands frozen in time looking at the boy who was her best friend-only friend. And it all happens so fast (did it really happen?) she doesn’t know what to do and she must look so stupid like a deer in the headlights so she raises her hand and jerkily waves back. But then he comes over, and it really is him, really is best friend-only friend only now he’s taller and older and more mature, ready to take on the world. 

Everything doesn’t go back to normal (they never can, what did you expect?), but she’s happy to have him there and know that best friend-only friend came back even if she was done with those little childish antics (because she was, right?). And she looks up into his eyes and is surprised by how tall he is and how solid he seems. You were always a scrawny little kid, shorter than me. And he reaches over and tugs on her hair which sweeps the small of her back – You grew it out, you never liked short hair – and they catch up on lost times and laugh about old memories. 

– and so the rest of the days go, happily and smoothly, more relaxing than she can ever remember them being. 

And he makes he laugh and smiles and it seems like he was never away because he still knows her like the back of his hand. And he talks and talks and it feels as though she were still in a dream, but he’s really there and he’s back. And maybe her heart beats a little too fast, but it’s been so long that she’s had a real friend, a best friend-only friend that she thinks it’s okay. After all, she deserves this little piece of heaven right? And maybe it’ll last this time; maybe he’ll stay, pleasepleaseplease stay… 

And on the day they graduate, she turns and looks and sees him through the sea of caps and sees him looking back. And maybe there was a truth to staying, a truth to the best friend-only friend. And together, they toss their caps in the air and cheer not just with their classmates but especially with each other. It’s graduation, and it’s a new life, a new start, a new friendship with an old friend, and maybe, just maybe, this time he won’t leave, won’t leave her. 

And it’s getting late, so she comes back to reality and picks up the phone (she isn’t afraid to call anymore, he’ll answer) and dials his number. He arrives just in time for the first smear of fire and magic to burn a trail across the sky and they sit together on the playground sandbox and watch, watch the night turn from magenta-crimson to a coast of navy-midnight. 

And so they sit on the playground sandbox and sip hot cocoa and watch as the stars peek out from behind their midnight veils, and she laughs as a dribble of chocolate leaks out of the corner of her mouth.

And it isn’t quite happily-ever-after, but they’re getting there. 

Slowly, slowly, surely.