Jenny4

     He was the first kid I saw, on my first day of kindergarten. I was holding my mom's hand as we walked into the classroom. I guess it was playtime, because he was rummaging through the long, white toy box. His height, or maybe the lack of it, caught my eye. I could not figure out how someone so small could be in KINDERGARTEN, so I quietly asked my mom if she thought he was a dwarf. I don't remember her response, and I really don't remember anything else about Tyler Harris until second grade.
      We were both seven years old, and Tyler had grown a couple feet. I had always thought boys were bad, but I secretly had a crush on him. We went to a "Christian" school where the teachers told us not to have boyfriends; it was against the rules. I was all about following the rules, so when Tyler told everyone he liked me, I acted as if he meant nothing to me. Still, he gave me this little piece of paper shaped like a playing card. It was a seven of hearts. My friend got jealous and told me if I really didn't like him, I would rip it up and throw it away. So I did.
      We stayed friends. Halfway through seventh grade, I began going to public school. After that, we really didn't talk, but I always had a love for him. He had been my friend since we were four, and he would be my friend forever. I would see him sometimes when I visited my other friends from the school. By then, he was taller than me, and his eyes were deep blue. We would always start talking about something that happened when we were kids. Sometimes it would take a while for one of us to remember, because many memories fade like cheap highlighters. But then both our minds would connect to that one event that probably had absolutely no significance at all, except to make us laugh. It was then that we both missed our childhood, because it was just so good. No one else could relate, because they weren't there when it happened. Even though I did not really know what was going on in his life, and he did not know how I was doing, our friendship was strong. It was something that could not be broken, even if only for the fact that it had existed so long.
      Last August, Tyler died in an accident. I do not think I had ever been, and hopefully never will be again, as sad as I was when I found out. Tyler was my friend forever. I thought he would be here forever.
      Whenever I think of my childhood, I think of Tyler. Whenever I take my life for granted, whenever I act childish, whenever I make my loved ones feel unloved, I think of my friend Tyler who is not here anymore. I know where he is, but he cannot be here with me. I regretted for a long time not keeping more of my memories with him. And sometimes I wish I had never thrown out that paper card.