November 16, 2010
When I found you on Facebook, I was so eager to message you. After all, you were my Kindergarten best friend and though I moved away in the second grade, I still thought about you from time to time. As I grew older, I often wondered what kind of a person you turned out to be. If you were a nerd, a jock, a rebel, who knew? We were so close yet we were so young and although I thought I had ideas about who you would grow up to be, I honestly had no real idea. So you could just imagine the glee I felt when your profile picture popped up after my search. Even though you matured and I hadn’t seen you in 7 years, I immediately recognized you. Excitement ran through my fingertips as I typed that message. I tried to play it cool. I pretended like I only vaguely remembered you when in reality, the moments we shared were still vivid in my memory. And at the very end of my very short, semi-thought out, message, I asked “do you remember me?”

For a few days, I waited for your response. When your message finally came, I hoped for you to say something like “OMG JESSICA. I CAN’T BELIEVE AFTER ALL THESE YEARS YOU STILL REMEMBER ME”. But you didn’t. You didn’t say anything like that. In fact, you had no idea who I was.

not really
how do you remember me

Who knew such a short message would make such an impact on my 14-year old self? Yes, I realized messaging you was a long shot but deep down inside, I hoped. How could anyone forget their Kindergarten best friend? I mean, how could he not remember the staring games we played while we said the pledge of allegiance every day? How could he not remember biting his carrot at me and pretending to be Bugs Bunny during recess? How could he not remember the time he snuck me some cotton candy from that day we had that world expo because your mom was working at a station? I don’t know. Maybe I was just too in over my head, somehow assuming that I was significant enough to be memorable. Because all I did was set myself up for disappointment.

What I learned was sometimes in life, things don’t necessarily turn out how we hoped. I loved my best friend and was hurt that he didn’t remember me. For weeks after our online reunion, I was upset at how our friendship vanished but I came to accept the idea of being forgotten. Yes, I will still continue hoping that one day, you might remember me, but for now, I am satisfied. The memory of what we once were is still fresh in my mind and the fact that you were once my best friend is all that really matters.

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