I miss you

I don't remember the first time we met, but you're mom told me she saw us leaving the class together engaged in conversation. I had smiled and walked over to my mother, looking over my shoulder to see if you were looking. You were. She said that you had run over and told her that I was the prettiest girl you'd ever met and that you wanted to marry me.

A childish view of the world, so simple.

Friendship developed into first love. Over the years we grew inseparable. All the time spent leaning each other, our habits, our bodies.

Your parent's told us together. Your father's contract had expired. You had to move back to America.
Not one word was said between us as you walked me home that night, the reassuring clasp you held my hand in said it all.

It's weird how I remember with such clarity the night you left. How much it hurt.

I loved the emails and the phone calls, but it was the letters and the packages that I treasured the most. You sent me pictures, candy, books- anything to make me smile. Almost a year after you'd gone, one valentine's day you sent me a note: See you soon x My parents presented me with the plane ticket, cue crying all round. Our holiday was the best. We drove across the state and visited your grandparent's- they finally got to meet 'the English girl' from the phone. But parting again was just as hard.

Slowly the letters became less and less, then the phone calls stopped all together. But it was ok. It was time. We went to university, got new partners. Moved on.

Last year driving home in a storm you aquaplaned, off the road after clipping the edge of a truck. Your Mom rang, she thought I should know. That's when she told me the story of how we met. It just about broke my heart. I wish I could remember.

I miss you.