Remembering Summer [COMPLETED]

What a Coincidence

What a coincidence

19th April, 2016

I was in a park a couple of weeks ago (not the one we used to go to) and I was on the swings. It was a weirdly overcast day, considering it's the middle of spring, and no one was there. Or so I thought. And so I was gently swinging, tears making their way down my face as I realized that its been exactly half a year since you've been gone, and I still haven't healed, not one bit. I still feel as empty as I did six months earlier, and I still don't know what to do with my life.

I was staring at the ground, when, suddenly, a pair of pink sneakers that lit up every time a foot pressed down on the dirt appeared in my line of vision. I traced the shoes back to the owner, and found the face of a cute brunette who had a frown on her face.

"Why are you sad pretty girl?" She asked, honest as the day. "I don't like it when people are sad."

I didn't know how to answer her, afraid that I might trigger some sort of reaction from her. And so I went with something as close to the truth as possible.

"I lost my best friend in the whole world."

Her reply made me choke on the lump in my throat, as a chuckle fought its way out of my throat. I think I've forgotten how to laugh.

"Well then lets go find her silly! You don't have to cry. I lost my mommy in the park, and I'm not crying."

'If only it were that easy.' Was what I wanted to say, but decided to tell her that we should go looking together.

We found her mother, a short brunette, who the girl, Michelle, seemed to get most of her cute features from. She was worried, and thanked me a million times for helping Michelle find her. She informed me that her name was Nora Whitts, and that they moved here recently. I asked her where they moved into, and realized that she moved into our neighborhood. I told her that we lived a few steps away from each other, and she was delightfully surprised, saying that it was a relief to finally know someone.

I thought I saw a moving van in the slits between my closed curtains a week ago, but didn't think much of it; well, the mystery has been solved.

Now I realized that the woman in front of me was responsible for it. I also realized that I haven't thought of you during the whole exchange. And that thought both terrified me and put a smile on my face.

Fast forward a week, and I've offered to babysit Michelle every time Nora and her husband, Mike, go out.

On my first babysitting session, I was terrified I might mess up, and remembered your babysitting disaster where the kids managed to set fire to their plushy, almost causing the house to burn down. You barely made it, and no one ever hired either of us for baby-sitting ever again.

Thankfully, the four hours passed by quickly and safely, since Michelle and I get along together.

So, the Whitts family and I had a routine. Every Friday, she and Mike would go out, and Michelle and I would either spend it at their place or mine, depending on the situation.

Whats weird is that Nora never asked why I didn't go out like most normal teenagers, and I realized that she must have known. But I wasn't bothered by it, because they never judged or pitied me, all they did was treat me like a normal person.

And I realized that that was what I needed most. Not to be pitied, or to have someone say how sad my situation is, but to be treated with kindness and warmth and laughter.

I laughed more in those precious four hours than I did the past six months; which isn't a lot, but its progress.

Michelle also encouraged me to start walking Midnight again, saying that she always wished she could have a dog, but her mom hated them for some reason. And so every morning, at six, I'd swallow a granola bar, grab Midnight's leash and we'd go walking.

In the beginning, he wanted to run, but my stamina didn't allow that. So we walked. And who knows, maybe in a few weeks, we'd be able to start running.

I think I've just found my savior, someone who isn't you for the first time in my life.

-June, who has the tiniest ray of hope in her heart, but its enough to light the empty space up