We’ve known each other since I was born, pretty much. You’re only 6 months older than me, so, really, we’ve known each other for nearly seventeen years.
You used to be such a dick.
I know I’m fat. It really doesn’t take a genius to look at me and realise that I’m big. I’m not horrendously fat. It’s not like I’ve never been asked out, or get excluded because of my size. I guess my height helps with that. How did it take you eleven years to work that fact out of your system? I just found it funny that your worse insult was marshmallow. For fuck’s sake, man, use your brain. There are so many crueler things to say.
Anyway, even when you were mean, I still respected you, sort of. Because I knew I was fat. And it didn’t hurt, when you said it. I just took it as fact. Like ‘The sky is blue.’ or ‘It snows when it’s cold.’ I didn’t take it as an insult, because frankly, I didn’t think that getting upset was really worth my time.
But then I started growing taller and the fat started to go. You became pleasant to be around. I used to enjoy being with you, be it building imaginary shelters in the woods by your house or going on one of those really long walks that our parents used to force us on. And then, afterwards, we’d go and warm up by the fire.
Even though we live almost two hours away, we’d talk almost every night on the phone. About everything from what was on TV to our annoying siblings to whatever we felt like. It was like something you read in books.
Until it wasn’t.
You changed. I don’t know what happened, because we never saw each other often enough for you to tell me and you never brought it up on the phone. You just became cold, distant and unreachable. And then I found out you had a girlfriend and I cried. It wasn’t because I wanted to go out with you. It was because I love you. But I was happy being friends.
Your mum didn’t want our families to meet up because you weren’t doing too well in school and she wanted you to concentrate on your work, which you didn’t. And then I had really important exams. And now, you’ve been moved back a year, and we probably won’t see each other for an age because our parents are trying so hard to be ‘sensible’.
And I miss you. I miss the guy who was a dick and then almost a gentleman. I miss the guy who, when we started our teens, would never hurt me in any way, who used to like having a good time. But he’s gone, and I want him back.
I will always love you and be here if you want me, no matter what. Because in reality, I’m just a stupid girl who never wants to learn.