I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You
Dear childhood friend,
It’s been about 14 years since we’ve been in touch. Why did we lose touch? I honestly don’t know. We were in our early 20s and had both graduated from separate universities, and were taking tentative steps into whatever came next. Neither of us knew what lay ahead but somehow, on the walk to get there, we moved at different speeds and drifted in different directions. I sent you texts every now and again, on birthdays and when you just popped into my head. But you didn’t respond.
We met at junior school. I arrived in year three from a different school - a bit later than everyone else - and was terrified on my first day. I shuffled into my new classroom and a sea of eyes slowly gravitated towards me. But when I saw you, you were beaming. From then on you scooped me up into a wonderful friendship. You were funny and excited by everything and moved through life at such a pace. In the playground you’d take my hand and run so fast, there were moments I’m certain both my feet were off the ground. And boy, were you creative. You’d pick up a pen and from the moment it touched the blank piece of paper, you weaved a world of brilliant characters, with personalities, quirks, and a life of their own.
You have two sisters and as an only child, I was baffled and envious of the bond that the three of you had. I marvelled at your arguments, the shouting and drama that could escalate from zero to one hundred. But I also saw the wordless knowing intimacy between you all, the conversations without words and the deep love you all shared.
We went to secondary school together, too. You had friends in every group (it was cliquey like that) and you were at ease with everyone and open. I became more introverted, having pathetically deep crushes on boys that didn’t look at me twice and feeling awkward about almost everything. But you carried yourself with endless confidence, although I know that that wasn’t always how you felt inside.
I think the times we shared together when we were younger have stuck with me the most, though. Perhaps because that’s when we were closest and your lack of fear and thirst for adventure rubbed off on me, a rather timid little girl. You showed me that deep inside I had a fearlessness, bravery and inquisitiveness that I need to remember as I get older. Whether it was clambering over your neighbours’ fences, searching for witches at the end of your garden or leaping on the back of your bike so you could ride me around the summer streets of south London - you unearthed a side of myself I take comfort in today.
I will always thank you for this and lots more. I feel lucky to have had you in my life and whatever you are up to, whatever adventures you seek today, I hope you are still beaming and happy.
Charlotte
Written by Charlotte Livingstone
Charlotte is a music obsessed south Londoner who loves dancing, crosswords, The Chase (too much) and getting out and about. She writes for a living as a Digital Content Editor and is loving being able to write for fun with The Everyday.
