Blast from the (way) past

Facebook is great for the simple fact that you get to keep in touch with all of those people that, when you were a kid- you tearfully promised to write to... as the moving van pulled out of the driveway.

I moved around a lot as a kid, and each place was so different from the last that I feel as though I had a few different versions of "my childhood". Each town was it's own micro-universe. The world felt so much bigger, and goodbye felt like it would definitely be forever.

One of my friends from the third grade, Megan- recently sent me an invite to her wedding after re-connecting on FB. I am super excited to go and can't stop thinking about how we would have turned out had she not moved away after only being my friend for one year. We may have gotten into more trouble than we each managed to do on our own!

Megan was unlike anyone else I had ever known. Both of us had just moved to Fitchburg, and didn't have any real friend group yet. She was tiny, but loud. She had a last name that was harder to pronounce than my own. At the tender age of 9, she already had a dark side, just like- me... which I hadn't found  an outlet for until we met. We naturally gravitated towards each other.

I was a quiet kid who liked to read a lot, and had animals and trees for friends. I believed in magic, and would read loads of books on anything having to do with the occult. My natural disposition was not sunny. I remember being asked by teachers why I would never smile. I told them that there was nothing to smile about. The way I saw it, we were stuck inside a prison (school) all day while the whole wide world was out there enjoying the sunshine.

Unlike me, Megan was outspoken and mischievous. She would lie straight to your face and then shrug it off when caught in the act. She would say what she felt and didn't give a shit who heard her. I loved this about her because while she said what I thought, I would just sit back and laugh without any guilt associated with the social repercussions. To this day I have a mischievous side to me that I credit her with. Her rebellious attitude and blatant disregard for authority rubbed off on me.

I remember the first time I tried to be like her. I told her mom that I was allergic to peas, so that I could pick them out of the homemade stew she'd made. Her mom laughed, and just humored me because, like- who is allergic to peas? At the time I thought she bought it and was so pleased with myself because I had for the first time said something un-true and didn't feel bad about it.

I honestly don't know what normal 3rd graders did at that age, but we were sneaking out her window to cast magic spells in her old deserted barn in the back yard. Her imagination was wild. Even more so I think than my own. Using stolen candles and found objects like the bones of rodents and flowers from someone else's garden- we built an altar. Then attempted to wake the spirits of wise old horses that we believed were still stuck in the barn.With her I could see things that were invisible to everyone but us.

I think we believed our own stories to some extent. The mundane hum-drum of everyday life just wasn't as interesting as what was going on in our heads.

Unfortunately, as quickly as our friendship began it ended/when her family moved to North Carolina the following year. Now here we are as adults, with loads more stories to tell- and I can't wait to hear them.