I sat out on my back porch watching my children play with the little girl next door. I felt happy, I had just moved back into the neighborhood were I grew up in, and being back in a place where I had a lot of happy times in surround me in a cloud of joy. My children and I had just gotten back from a walk were I had showed them the house that I lived in and the house of my best friend when I was young. We played in the park were my friends and I had sat, then only having a picnic bench where now stood a big play fire engine, and talked about what we'd do when we grew up and how we couldn't wait to get out from under our parents' hands.
Now sitting on the porch I started thinking about my best friend, and how much I missed him. I had met him when I was in the 6th grade, him and my sister in the 5th, though he was the same age as me. We all hit it off quickly, since there were no other kids on our block. We became fast friends, spending all our waking time together and he was even aloud to stay over night if we wanted him too.
Those were good times, walking down to the park, going for a swim at the local public pool, playing basketball, tennis, or any other game we could think of, or just sitting in the cooled air of the house watching movies.
We watched each other grow-up and yes with watching each other change there were some "hands-on" experimentations on how each other were growing, especially between him and I. Nothing too dramatic but enough to get each other¡¦s minds reeling on what "other" things could be like. In all, he was my first love, puppy love, my Mom and Grandmother called it, but love none the less in the heart of a growing girl.
As we grew up we became a little more distant. Liking different things, and having other crushes on other people, though each time there was a different "love interest" between us we'd feel a little jealous of the new girl or boy.
He became a jock, getting into basketball, football, and track in high school. I had run track for a little while but broke my ankle while taking a run around the school. Yes, I broke my ankle running! I am the clumsiest person on earth, walls cringe when they see me coming. After my short fascination with the sports of high school I started hanging out with the "bad crowd." The people I hung out with smoked, drank, skipped school, and did drugs. Though, honestly, the only thing I did was smoke and skip school. I hadn't yet gotten the taste for alcohol and I've never picked up the habit of doing drugs. We'd still talk to each other, but the days of hanging out were over with. We had our own lives; we both had cars, and were never at home anymore to do any sort of hanging out anyway. But I still felt love for him.
When I had my first real boyfriend he came back around. Mopping and pledging loves to me that he'd never done before. I declined all of his words, telling him that he had had his chance with me a long time ago and I got tired of waiting for him. This distanced our relationship even further, though he never got tired of coming over and interfering with the privacy of my boyfriend and me. Nor did he ever miss the chance to tell me that he still loved me, and he'd wait for me. He also tried to take back up the experimentations of our earlier years, and though I'd let him get so far, I'd stop him when I felt it was enough, I've never denied the fact that I am probably the biggest tease this side of the Mississippi.
To damage our relationship further, I announced the fact that I was engaged to my boyfriend. This was all he could handle, and though I'd see him every now and again outside in his front yard, he quit coming across the street. I was broken, though I knew I had brought it on myself, but my heart finally broke and the realization that I had lost him forever set in.
I was married, and a year later gave birth to my first child. When she was two months old I brought her over to his house so that his mother could see the new baby. He was happy to see me, hugging me before I could put the baby, who was in a car seat, down and he held my hand the whole time I was there. I saw him and his mother a couple of times afterwards; always making sure that his mom was there when I went over there. For some reason I felt uncomfortable in his presence.
Pat announced to me that they were moving back down to Georgia and I was saddened. I told her that I must have her new address and phone number and I'd give her mine so that we could stay in touch. We made plans to meet each other the following week in order to exchange everything, and as I was leaving my friend gave me the longest hug he had yet, as though we'd never see each other after this.
The following Tuesday, the day I had planned to see Pat again, I called before leaving for her house. Just to make sure that she was there, I'm very anal about things like that. Unfortunately she was not. I left a message on her machine, thinking that she might have had to go to work earlier than she usually did. On the message I left my number and told her to call me so that I could come out and see her. She never called, and I left two or three more messages on the machine. That weekend I decided to drive by her house, to see if she was there. I was really trying to catch her before they moved, but pulling up in the drive I noticed that her outdoor furniture had been replaced by someone else's, they were gone.
I sat staring at the house for a long time, tears swelling in my eyes as I realized that I would never see them again. A week later I wrote a letter to them, figuring that they had to have put in a change of address, it's one of the major rules of moving, but the letter was returned. I had lost Kevin for the second time, and this time it hurt worse.
I went about my regular routines for five years. Had another baby, moved a couple of times, and then bought my first house two months ago, again in the neighborhood I had grown up in. I'd never forgotten about Kevin, he'd cross my mind about a zillion times a day, and more so if there was a song on the radio that we use to jam to growing up. Especial when, by chance, or by someone requesting the song on the lunch hour of the radio station I normally listen to, Mr. Big's, To Be With You, comes on the radio. Yes, I grew up in the time of Hair Bands, lucky me. He dedicated that song to me, and sang it to me one time while we sat in my basement, hanging out, smoking cigarettes, and doing other things that we weren't suppose to be doing. The song has always made me smile, and the picture of him sitting beside me, holding my hand, singing the song always sticks in my mind.
I sat thinking about all these things and some others, which would probably bore you if I was to write them down here, and make me veer from the story that I'm trying to tell, when the phone rang. I picked it up, looking at the caller ID before answering it, and saw that it was my sister.
"Hello."
"Hi!"
"Whatcha doing?"
"Not much getting ready for work but I had to call you."
"Why? What¡¦s going on?"
"You'll never guess who I found. Go on take a guess."
"Niki, you know I hate guessing. Just tell me."
"Okay fine. I found Kevin."
"No you didn't."
"Yes I did!"
There was a pause here in the conversation while she yelled at her boys to be quiet and be good. I felt my heart drop into my stomach. I was nervous and excited all at the same time. Odd feeling really.
"K. Sorry." "It's alright." "Well, anyway. I found Kevin man I'm serious"¨
"How'd you find him?"
"This guy I work with knows him. And we started talking about what high school and shit we went to and he asked me what year I graduated and I told him '98 and he said you know Kevin, tall red hair, and all that. I said yes and he said that he was a friend of his."
"Where's he at?"
"You'll never believe it."
"C'mon just tell me!"
"On our old street."
"Fuck no!"
"Yeah man! He lives in the house to the right of his old house."
"You gotta be kiddin me! Hell he's only a couple of blocks from me then."
"I know ain't that something!"
