The Days She and I Shared

[Childhood Friends | Healing Old Regrets | Coming of Age | Tender Bittersweet Ending | Witty Banter]

She was the curly-haired little girl next door, my childhood friend, and the regret I buried deep in my heart, the one I never dared to unearth again.

When we were little, she'd throw orange candies at my face and shout, “You lazy pig, get up!”

Later, she'd wait for me in the snow, rubbing her hands together. “You lazy pig, it's snowing again this year.”

Later still, she'd lean against my shoulder and whisper, “You lazy pig, I'm so tired.”

Then one day, she wrote in a letter, “You lazy pig, I'm kind of... feeling sleepy.”

Only then did I understand. Only then did I finally understand:

The aftertaste of orange candy is bitter.

Those years of orchids were far from perfect.

She filled my entire youth with little moments from our everyday lives. In the end, she became a scar that will stay with me for the rest of my life.