Our story starts as kids, our entire universe revolving around fantasies and the constant fear of contracting cooties. Young and naive children, who were unfazed by anything in this world. Unable to be swept up in the whirlwind that blew around the adults of our time.

Next thing I know, puberty is upon us. Changing physiques, our bodies overrun by hormones, and the sudden urge to run up to Bobby down the hall and say, “Sara has a crush on you!” Suddenly, the disgusting opposite sex wasn’t so disgusting anymore. When all of that changed, we changed. I lost my childhood friend as he had morphed into someone I didn’t recognize …and so had I.

Three years later, we had changed again. This time, it was a different change; not hormonal, but societal.

When going through high school, teenagers are taught to just blend in. Because if nobody notices you, nobody can target you. And if nobody targets you, you just might be able to survive the four-year hellhole that most people don’t end up missing; but that wasn’t what I was worried about missing — it was him, my childhood friend, the one I never thought I would live without. We must have blended in too well, as we could no longer recognize one another.

It’s funny how life works. So many people pass by every day, hundreds of faces that our brains try to place, only to end up remembering just a few. Mine chose to remember his. And there are points in my life where I wish I could just forget — remove the image of ever knowing him, as I now realize I will never see the same boy who belonged to that face. Still, that doesn’t stop my heart from hoping that one day, I will look among the crowd, and see that same little boy I once knew. Maybe then I can finally tell him, “I’ve missed you.”