I looked around at the once newly made tree house, placed in the wrong tree. The tree house was much more open, like a balcony. I looked over toward her hair short and messy, black that made me forget of her once natural hair so long ago. We sat in the tree house, I was in the hanging chair that I felt I could hide in and never be found. my knees hugged and I look around seeing how so much has changed.
"Remember when you first told me that your dad was going to make a tree house?" I asked. She was on her phone trying to find something that we were talking about earlier.
"Ha yeah we even had a whole drawing, wonder if I could find it in my room somewhere?" She questioned herself.
"I remember we imagined it to be our base. We thought of a refrigerator and snacks. We were making it into a small house for us to hang," I commented. I thought back to after school in elementary. It felt so long ago, like a distant past life with running and messing around, no drama or school controlling our lives as much as it does now. We entered into society always looking back, and wishing to go back.
"Oh man I remember we planned out a t.v. and beanie bags! We even made different escape routes," She chuckled.
I laughed along trying so hard to remember every detail of the sketch.
"We loved this tree too since it was so easy to climb. We wanted it on the other tree closer to your house. We had this as our three branch government," I chimed in.
"Oh man yeah remember when we were learning about that legislative, judicial, and ...executive branch?"
"It's been so long! we were so disappointed as well," I looked at the garden just below.
"hehe, man and now here we are worrying about majors, courses, and standardized tests," I sighed giving into the same old talk I have been having with everyone. The same old what major, what college, what courses. It felt like a trap.
"Sometime's I wish we didn't have to worry so much about getting into college," I commented with a sigh.
"Yeah, it is always this question of how we will change the world, how will we leave our mark, and help others," She replied. We both became glum. I shouldn't have brought up reality.
"Oh, we should work on our book!" I thought up trying to cheer up the mood.
"Oh gosh it's already been since freshman year since we started that," She replied. I smiled feeling as if time didn't understand when to stop, and it didn't.
I looked at the girl who had been through so much with me. We considered each other as friends, best friends, we always invited each other to any parties we had, always trying to find time to hang, yet it felt as if we were drifting apart. It wasn't even that we were two different people living two separate lives, which we were. It was the problems that we hid within ourselves. We knew we could count on each other, yet at the same time we decided not to. I know our friendship was slipping and maybe it was time we moved on from each other, but we held on, keeping each other afloat, the last thing of our childhood still in tact. It wasn't about anymore of learning about each other, on what we liked. It wasn't the similarities we had on art or music, interests or crushes, it was the fact of time. Time kept us apart. However, it also kept us together. I always loved writing the story of how I met her. The new girl in before school. I have added details, forgetting others, thinking back on how things would have changed if my mom hadn't forced me to raise my hand.
I remember the adventures we went on during recess and the projects we did together. We spent time doing things we enjoyed just making memories. The memories keeping us together as we grew older, as we matured, as we fought through personal battles of finding ourselves, finding who we liked, our character, our friend group, and finding what was important to us. We gone through so much knowing, understanding, and yet never really seeing the other person. We enjoyed each others company, even now as we sat in the now worn, rain washed, wooden tree house. As we got excited over the ideas and plots with our story remembering details the other forgotten. I remember the time we promised to finish it by the end of senior year, but we'll probably fail. Remembering the good times, with our imaginations the only guide. I sat there listening and watching how much has changed and how much has stayed the same. The dogs barking, clawing at the door, wanting attention. The dress she wore that I remembered her wearing, I think on a field trip or at school one day. I remember the time we were in this tree house sitting seeing the new addition that was added later. Climbing the smaller ladder for the first time- it still freaks me out when climbing up and down it. The multiple parties with the light up cubes that glowed and changed color. The many times we spun around in the hanging chair giggling at how fast it was going. The zip line that had once broke during a hangout. All the memories in this backyard and in this tree house.
Once again here we are sitting in this tree house, that was in the wrong tree, too open to be a house and didn't give in to our imagination.
As it was time to leave, it felt awkward and too soon. Regretting the feeling I felt when at the beginning, like time that had once been moving too slow from the nerves. I had seen it as more of meeting with a relative that only came to visit every few years. Through the hangout, or what we used to call play date, it felt as if time slipped by in the blink of an eye. Talking for over 3 hours making much progress on our story. We smiled enjoying our time and feeling as if it wasn't long enough. We stood and as I looked around as we climbed down from the tree house, the memories flooding back bringing sorrow and happiness at the same time. Those memories the tree house, garden, pool, trampoline, and open backyard with grass that probably flattened and dead from children running around on it through the years. I walked home thinking of all the memories that keeps our friendship alive.
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