Travel

Jan 12. .Sunny.

I thought our lives were to branch, separate, and diverge. I blinked twice.Your face defined, body lengthened, extended. Your closeup painted unrecognizable. You can't be the same person.

Do you remember me?

Seeing you made me flashback. Travel me back to what I was, what life looked like. It was the curve of the slide, the metal finish of the monkey bars, the plastic touch of the tires. I stood there. Where the bordered rocks and my foot connected, met each other one more time. I breathed in the past air. What I missed. What was long gone, returning. In my lungs, diffused throughout my body, to the tips of my nails and toes. All simplicity.The simplicity of childhood. I can't grasp onto my memories to remember what that felt like. I was never given the moment to be a child once I left. Once I walked through the gym to reach the end, I tossed it out. And moved on.

I wonder if you still hate me...if I make you travel too...

Because you didn't respond to me with your new voice. But your eyes talked to me. They sneaked whispers.

There was no smile in them either. Just a hollow stare that scanned me. It held no sense of curiosity. It was all blank and unmarked with expression.

We were supposed to work together today. No "I" in team. But you forced it in there. Jammed it. Did not follow. Left me and the other boy talking, laughing. I invited you with a joke. It was your cue, your opportunity. But you didn't seem to thank it. We diverged again. Maybe you want to keep it that way.

I don't know what part of you is stopping from our lines to gently meet. Maybe your old anger, old sadness all reappeared when your face met mine on the first day. Maybe it's your shyness. Or I'm not even your concern anymore. That's what is stopping me. Standing there to let me face it. Stare and give it adjectives to provide a description. I've jot down nothing. That's all I see so far. But I won't and can't. I can't push with two hands. I need yours and mine.

Seems like you don't want to. I closed my eyes.

"Take me back," I said.