I first started writing this little piece for my youth group at my last summer camp. After the first draft I didn't touch it until I realized how quickly my time at New Heart was drawing to a close. So, after A LOT of editing, this is the final product.
To New Heart Youth Group
Something funny about a memory is that I can never remember it. I know that day happened, but my mind’s view is as foggy as the mirror after you take a shower. I wish I could remember so well that it would be as if I’m reliving the moment in its pure, crystal clarity that I’ll never see again. There will always be an inadequacy when it comes to remembering any time. The time when we played Apples to Apples for the first time, or I climbed up the rock wall at camp, or someone stole your Koole-Aid. I will always be reaching, but never quite touching what I long for. What is it that I truly ache for, and why do I go on about an essence that can’t be regained? What is the reason I want to remember so desperately? The reason is you – as crazy and irritating and funny as you are. Though my last time here will inevitably become a blur, nothing will change the fact that for all this time you have been a very dear friend.
I finished my childhood with you, which automatically makes your place in my life extremely special. Don’t get me wrong, there were times were I felt like throwing you out of a two-story window – sometimes even a three-story window. Ah, but I have to admit that you guys were pretty story-worthy. There was “Kike’s Koole-Aid,” “Picturesque,” a few poems, and memoir I wrote in Creative Writing about the time I got face-slammed by a snowball. Out of all the memories I share with you, those creative pieces are only scraps of paper out of an entire novel. You’re my friend, and though I wish we wouldn’t end, know that your face has been permanently sketched into my brain. Your image, though half-muddled in the chaos known as memories, will be with me for as long as I can hold on. All I ask is that you hold onto me, too.