Friendships, boys, classmates, and sometimes even families, come and go. Everyone has had their fair share of “heartbreak” or remorse from a relationship that once existed, and so have I. If I could do things differently with some of my old friendships, I would, especially with this particular one. However; I’m not one to express my feelings through my eyes, facial expressions, or through speech. Soon enough I realised that my feelings, thoughts, and emotions were all pouring out, with nothing beneath to capture it. So instead I did what I do best, I turned them into a story.

Years after, with a single promise to myself that I won’t cry, I went down “that” road. Actually, I always did, just this time I allowed myself to remove the barrier that stood between me and thoughts about her. I stood there for a moment, the wind was blowing through my shoulder length hair, as each memory projected through my mind.

I stared at the sight before me: a brown old rusty shed, boats parked at the dock, the reflection of lights in the blue water, and the sky painted with vibrant colors of blue and pink. The soft sounds of the water bashing into the sides of the docks sounded like music to my ears. As I sat there on a wooden bench soaking in nature’s beauty, a memory sneaked into my head. I looked over at the shed and remembered the days when we sat in a small corner munching on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I looked over to the other side and was reminded of the times we used to get into her dad’s boat and sail by ourselves, not knowing where we were headed. Of course I did not dare to tell her to stop or that I was scared, because her answer would have always been, “We’re here for a good time not

a long time, so just chillax.” After what seemed like forever, we would find our way back to the docks. Even after years of doing this, we were always greeted with her dad’s furious face, and she would almost always do something silly to make up for it. Once, she moved swiftly from left to right, picking up the pace each time. Eventually, a strong gust of wind blew past, and with her rocking, the boat flipped over. I vividly remember watching her dad’s stern face slowly, muscle by muscle, turn into a soft smile as the boat capsized, submerging both, her and I, into the water lined with salt.

The splash of a pebble hitting the water broke me out of my trance. I was about to leave when I bumped into the old shed where we used to hangout. Without a thought, I unlocked the latch and gave the door a gentle push. The floors creaked as I shimmied my way through the small opening. Once I was in, I let out a gentle sigh. I walked across the square platform running my hands on the wall; believe me when I say I could still hear our conversations, almost as if they were buried in the wall. My fingers stumbled upon a few bumps, which looked completely normal until I got a closer look. It was actually an engraving of our names. A feeling of nostalgia rushed through my veins as I recalled that day. It was the day that the shed had finally been completed. We stepped in together with our eyes closed, and on the count of three our eyelids sprung open. We instantly fell in lovewith it, almost like “love at first sight”. She grabbed my hand and pulled me to a corner where we etched our names as a sign that the shed belonged to us. We told each other everything there, and it stayed there. It was our not-so-secret secret place, our escape.

As each minute passed, a little bit more of the sun started to disappear. I started to walk back home, and by the time I reached, I came to a conclusion that the feelings I thought were gone, were actually just locked away and forgotten about. I walked out into my balcony and looked up at the scintillating stars floating around in the night’s darkness, each one weirdly reminding me of her. Who knew I missed her so. darn. much.