The Boy From Summers Past

February 8, 2010
Every little girl had that little boy that she’d play husband and wife with just so she could kiss the boy she loved.

That boy for me was Mitchell.

Mitchell lived in Florida in the white house with the pretty blue shutters next to my aunt. And every summer until I was 12 I’d spend playing childhood games with him. His favorite game was war and mine was house. But any game we played I was happy with because I was with Mitchell.

Because of the games where we got married and the times I kissed him it was obvious that I liked Mitchell. And because of the times he shot me in war and pushed me in the dirt it was obvious I was just another one of his guy friends.

Although unlike his guy friends I didn’t stay a day past August 21st. Mitchell went back to his life without me and so did I until summer came again.

But the summer when I turned 13 we didn’t go to Florida and I didn’t get to see Mitchell. My father lost his job and money was tight for the next three years.

Each year summer didn’t seem to come and my memory of Mitchell began to fade and my love for him began to seem silly.
The summer I turned 17 and graduated from high school I took the money I saved up from waiting tables and drove 1600 miles to Florida to see Mitchell once again.


Just like when I was little I walked up to the white house with the pretty blue shutters and knocked on the door. I had butterflies in my stomach and my heart raced as I heard footsteps approaching the door. I closed my eyes, scared if what I’d see.

As the knob twisted I opened my eyes. A boy stood in front of me with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. He looks shocked and his tanned face even turned a slight shade of red from embarrassment.

I smiled the giggled. Mitchell was standing right in front of me. He still looked like the little boy I loved yet, more mature and handsome. “Can you come out and play?” I said like I would when I was little.

He smiled then laughed. Mitchell walked out of house and sat on his front porch step with me. I couldn’t believe it was him, the boy from my memories sitting right next to me.

He spoke with a deeper voice, “do you want to play a game.” He smiled showing his dimples.

I laughed, “Sure,”

“Okay,” he said a smile forming on his face, “let’s play husband and wife.”

And he leaned in, kissing me, but much better than all the times he did as a kid.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

LostAngel said...
Feb. 20, 2010 at 7:17 pm
Adorable story
rawrGabbsrawr replied...
Jul. 10, 2010 at 11:30 am
Awww that was sooo cuteee!
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