Memories

I remember when my family only had one beat up car, and that was the one my dad would take to work. My mom and I would walk along the road that was being devoured by the forest of Maine, and we would stop at the gas station to buy Gatorade. I don't know what the deal is with my family and Gatorade. Maybe it's because Gatorade saved my dad's life in quite a literal sense.

I remember growing up with my cousin. I remember the excitement filling me up like a balloon whenever my mom said we would be having a family visit at my grandma's house. I wonder if you were as excited to see me as I was to see you. I remember last week, my mom told me that you had started taking drugs. I wonder if it's my fault that you feel so sad, because I haven't texted you for a year now.

I remember watching cartoons in the morning. I remember the sun setting over the trees at three o'clock, and not being bothered by it. I remember when I would read long into the night, physically incapable of putting the book down.

I remember back when I didn't know you, sort of. I know that I didn't know you all my life, but it feels that way.

I remember that one time when I went with a bunch of friends to Lagoon, and while we were there we met four guys that were there for a family reunion. They were the same age as us, and they lived up in Idaho. Our groups spent the entire day together. That was probably the most fun I've ever had at Lagoon. I remember being heartbroken when I had to leave them all.  My mom needed help. Some day I hope that I meet them again, just because.

I remember a few nights ago. Like a criminal, I tip-toed out of the house in my pajamas, praying that my mom wouldn't hear me. All I took with me was a fuzzy blanket, and even though it was warm, my toes still froze. Despite my freezing toes, I sat under the stars, because sometimes you just need to go outside.

I hope you'll forgive me, but making memories is my favorite pastime.