Small Town

I

"When I was young, in my years of middle school, I romanticised things that shouldn't have been romanticised. They were the things people usually did when they didn't experience them, like living in a small town or long distance relationships. I also romanticised things that weren't necessarily bad to romanticise. Things like long, everlasting friendships. Things like happy family gatherings where everything went perfect. Long-lived traditions that were a little embarrassing but everyone secretly loved. I romanticised these things because I longed to experience the things I never had a chance to. I lived my life, all seventeen years, thinking I never would. That was, until three weeks after my birthday.

"This boy and I had gone to school together for basically our whole lives. He was the kind of person others would call a chameleon. In some groups of people he was shy and innocent, but in other groups of people he seemed very wild and extroverted. He was the type of person I usually stayed away from. Don't get me wrong, we talked from time to time, but it was mostly for homework or the times when we knew no one else in the classroom. We didn't really form a relationship worth mentioning to parents.

"One of the main things I noticed from years of seeing him at school was his lack of actually attending. When we were younger he strived for perfect attendance, often only missing that award by a couple days. As we got older he seemed to be disappearing more and more. He would text me on facebook asking me to pick up assignments for him from time to time. That's the only reason I knew his home address. When I would drop assignments off who I assumed to be his father or sibling always opened the door and accepted them. They thanked me and sent me on my way. They never invited me in. I never asked him why he was out. Despite his chameleon-like personality, I could tell deep down he wasn't happy. I knew there was something wrong, but I would never ask. I never really got the chance.

—

Him: I'm sorry this is so late, i know its been a week and a half already, but happy birthday.

Me: thank you. If you don't mind me asking, why haven't you been at school?

Him: just dont feel like it. I got grounded though. Thats why I didn't text you until now. Sorry, again.

Me: it isn't a big deal, no need to apologise. Do you need assignments?

Him: no, thats okay. Thanks. I gotta go now. bye.

Me: bye.

—

January 2019

"He came back to school the next day, but he looked extremely tired. As the days passed his physical appearance improved, but I also noticed he had dropped his chameleon act. I would catch him sitting alone or with the quiet kids the majority of the time. Occasionally he would sit with me, but he never spoke to me. For some reason I wanted to hear him speak, I hadn't heard his voice in weeks. He didn't though. On days he didn't sit with me he would text me after school. Simple things, mostly. Asking about homework or bringing up a joke he found funny during class. A couple times we had long conversations, but most of them died out quickly. Regardless, I slowly got to know him a little better with every text I received. It was actually kind of fun. On the days we lacked in conversations I found myself wondering what he was doing when we weren't talking.

"When I was absent from school for a few days he texted me asking where I was. I hadn't replied to him. He later texted me about new assignments we got. I left him on read again. I didn't have the physical energy to text him back. When I returned to school he wasn't there. I didn't text him to ask where he was, knowing he would probably do the same thing I did. Instead I just waited for his return. When he did return he still wouldn't say a word, but he texted me during classes. I also noticed he wouldn't answer questions during class. I caught him leaving notes on the teacher's desk from time to time. I would go to the teacher, pretending to have a question so I could see the notes, but the teacher would usually hide it. I opted for just ignoring it and going on with my life.