By Austin Price, Editor in Chief
Do you remember any of it?
Do you remember the sleepovers we had?
The sleepovers where we ate bowls of goop made from popcorn, chocolate, and gummy bears. Barely edible, but yet we loved it.
Do you remember our legs aching after pumping so hard on the swing set?
Our voices hoarse from screaming at the top of our lungs as we swung back-and-forth and back-and-forth.
Do you remember the days we spent in the water flapping our feet like a mermaid flaps its tail?
Do you remember the movies we watched?
The fan bases we followed and the heroes we cheered for.
Do you remember the games we played?
The games where everything could go wrong, but we still had each other.
Do you remember the movies we made?
Where we acted as amateur filmmakers making our big debut filming each other on our cell phones.
Do you remember the ice cream we had?
The giant bowls of gelato that were so chocolatey they were almost bitter.
Do you remember the walks we went on?
The ones where we could explore everywhere.
The ones where nothing held us back and we had no fear of anything.
Because even if there was something to fear, we had each other.
Do you remember the stage we acted on?
Writing, directing and acting stories out, using homemade costumes from fabric scraps and scribbling our lines in faded journals.
Do you remember the puppet shows we made?
Frayed ribbons knotted against our stuffed animals’ necks, leaving them grotesquely hanging from the hallway banister.
Do you remember the calls we had?
Where I interrogated you but yet you never asked about me.
Do you remember when your hearts were broken, but I was there to help you heal the entire time?
Do you remember when I was under attack but yet you never came to my defense?
Do you remember the promises we made?
The promises that we would stick together forever.
That you would be my maids of honor at my wedding and that I would be yours.
That we would be unofficial aunts to each other's children.
That no matter how old we got, we would still have sleepovers, still watch movies, and still play our silly little games
I guess you don’t remember any of this.
And maybe that just means I’m crazy.
But then again, that beautiful blue house still sits on the street named after the tree.
Haunted with the histories of our childhood.
The ones that you’ve chosen to neglect after you’ve neglected me.
Despite your forgetfulness, I hold onto these memories.
I grasp tightly, like holding a fishing rod being yanked into the water.
You’ve been in the depths of the deep end for a long, long time, but I refuse to join you.
I refuse to join you, because I refuse to forget.
I choose to remember.
I choose to remember the promises, the songs, the stories, the prayers, the plays, the games, the movies, the food, the swimming, the shows, and most of all, I choose to remember the love.
So go ahead, forget me.
Forget how much I meant to you.
Forget the things I did for you.
Forget the love I gave you.
But just know that I have and always will choose to remember.