He was always there behind me. I can still remember the days in which I would hear him snore. He sat behind me most of the classes when he bothered showing up. We were barely pubescent teens. But during those fleeting years would be the ones I would cherish the most.

The teacher had one day assigned us partners for a project. And he was the one to be assigned as my partner. I was ambivalent in my decision to stay quiet or ask the teacher to change partners. In the end I decided to stay partnered with him and already had decided I would do most of the work. I sat down next to him and I could still remember thinking him to be a peculiar character. His light brown hair that fell in his eyes and his lanky frame made him stand out.

When he smiled at me it was disarming. I had never seen him smile and when he did his eyes lit up. I was frozen and then compelled to smile back.

During the class period, we were supposed to be working on our assignment but we were in our own little world. We had found out we had so many things in common, we liked the same things, we hated the same things, and the same things made us laugh.

In the years to come we would be inseparable. We were each other's companion. But when we reached high school everything had changed. We were no longer in the same classes. But my feelings for him had grown to a point that every time I saw him my heart would beat faster making it impossible to talk to him. Although we spent time together our friendship seemed to wane.

At first I didn't see it although the signs were obvious. We seldom went to each other's houses. When we were younger we would use any excuse to visit each other and we would spend the entire time either playing games or arguing about petty stuff. When we hanged out we no longer talked. We would just be standing or sitting thinking about a subject to bring up but in the end we would have just spent the time in silence. And then some days he wouldn't even bother showing up, leaving me to wallow in my loneliness.

At one point a thought had occurred to me. What if he was avoiding me? The idea was ludicrous but for some reason it would pop up most of the time. I knew it was fear that powered that thought and one day I decided to confront it. I had gone over to his house one weekend and his father had opened the door. I only knew him in passing and was mostly acquainted with his mom so it was odd between us. He let me in and I sauntered over to his room. He was face down on his bed and his room was destroyed. I calmly walked over and sat on his bed. When the bed dipped that was when he turned his head.

His eyes, which as long as I could remember always held joy, held a sadness and hate that I had never seen before, that a chill went through me. I had reached out to touch him lightly on the shoulder but he had flinched away. An uncomfortable silence had lingered between us. With a gruff voice he had asked why I had come. I could still remember the chaos of my thoughts, trying so hard to remember the original reason I hade come. In the end I had asked where his mother was. I saw the fury light in his eyes before he turned his head away. In a voice that I had to strain to hear he had told me that his mother had let his father and that he had to soon decide whether or not to stay or go.

I couldn't remember the exact words I used but I had argued to the point of tears that he couldn't go. He listened to my hysterics with a blank look on his face.

'Why not?' He had asked.

'Because I love you.' I had answered.

With the same expression he sat up on the bed and faced me. I was barely restraining the tears that wanted to be free. He had lightly touched my face and then he leaned in to kiss me. The kiss was sweet and slow but also salty for my tears were running free down my face and we could both taste it. When we stopped he had looked away and had told me it would be better if I left. With the tears staining my cheeks I had walked out of his room without saying a word and hoping that he would decide to stay.

I had gotten my answer when I went to school on Monday. He wasn't there and when roll was taken his name never came up. As soon as school had ended I had rushed over to his house and pounded on the door with dread eating my insides.

His father opened the door and he had hit the final nail on my heart. He told me that his son had decided to live with his mother. Those few moments my entire being was numb that when he offered me a note I had automatically taken it smiled at him and left. As soon as I had reached my room I broke down and cried, sobbed, and screamed my agony. When I was once again composed I had taken out the note and read it with trembling fingers.
One day we'll meet again.

That was all that was written on it. A new wave of tears hit me but I didn't scream or cry out, they just streamed out. I held the note close to me and remembered all the good times I had with him.

I spent the rest of high school befriending new people. With a fortitude that astounded even me, I graduated high school in one piece. Every few times I did remember him my heart would ache with an unbearable loneliness but I survived through it. I was just waiting for that one day I would meet him again.

When I was twenty five I met him again. Our eyes met and he smiled that disarming smile. Once again I was frozen in place and then compelled to smile back.

We were back in our own little world.