Dear Boy-Next-Door (I miss you.)

I dreamt of you again last night. It’s been awhile since last time, & it’s always somewhat out of the blue. Unexpected, but familiar - as if my subconscious notice when you’re fading, & is making sure I won’t forget about you. There was a reunion. There were kids running around, old friends & new friends, lovers & haters & soda in red plastic cups, teachers trying to keep the wild ones at stake. There were pony-tails & bicycles & boys tearing heads off of crying girls’ dolls, & in the middle of all the mess, there was you.

As usually I didn’t dear to walk up to you, out of fear it would make you embarrassed, or shy, as it might be uncomfortable after all of these years, & I wouldn’t know what to say anyways. Probably something you’d find very strange, & then the look on your face would make me laugh & that would make you laugh & it would end as it always did, with you shaking your head & mumbling something concerning insanity &/or me. So I didn’t, but I smiled & waved at you, & I think I saw you returning the smile.

Of all the little boys & girls from different times, different ages & situations, it was but you & me that had grown. You are a young man now, I am a woman, & in my dreams it seems this realization always catches us off guard. Yes, you were my first love, the boy next door who always knew how to put a smile on my face, but we were kids. I loved you because you always knew what to say. Because you could climb to the highest branch of the tree, eat gross amounts of ice cream, & because you were never mean to me.

We are not who we used to be, & I know that we don’t know each other any more - maybe we never truly did. But I think you did care about me, despite all our differences I really think you did. Though you never said, & we never spoke of such things, or whatever lay ahead, I could tell you felt it too. We grew up together. Then we grew apart.

You kissed me once in a dream. It was all very confusing, & I bet you’d tease me if you ever found out. But it wasn’t unpleasant altogether, or at all for that matter. Sometimes I feel as if someone is trying to tell me our story isn’t finished yet. As if a significant part still awaits to blow our minds away.

All I’m trying to say is: I miss you still, as I probably always will be, & I’m thinking about you tonight. Where you are, what you are doing these days, how you are coping with life. If I ever happen to cross your mind. The dead flat fishes, the basket field, the spring nights playing by the swings - remember? While lending out your jacket, pulling someone’s hair or giving away trees - do you ever think of me then?

Where ever you are, be well, be happy. I’d contact you, but if you’re a man anything like the boy you once were, there’s not much of a point. You wouldn’t write me back, it’s not something you’d ever imagine to do. You’d explain to your friends how you don’t know me anymore. Laugh & tell them how strange I always were. Redheads, you know. That speach. Remember the post card I sent you for Christmas a few years ago? I wished you a happy life. Told you that I missed you. Wondered where you’d gone. It’s ok, I know you’ve got your cool. There’re things you can’t do. I guess it’s your way of avoiding the embarrassment of not knowing what to say, or how to say it.

What you don’t know is I met your best friend at a party just a little while after that, or that he told me about your reaction to it.

How you smiled for days, talked about if for weeks.

Oh, Silly Boy.

Just promise me you’ll remember my name. That you won’t forget my face, the color of my hair or the freckles on my knees.

I’m sure we’ll run into each other one day, when we’re both ready for round II in the history of me & you. & until then;

Love

of the bottomless kind
that only kids know everything of

/ Mickis