Do You Remember

We were five.
Well, actually, that’s a lie.
You were six, I was only five.

You’re a year older than me, and you’ve never let me forget it.

You had just moved in to the house next door.
I had watched the moving van in awe.
It was the biggest truck I had ever seen in my life.

I had been standing with my nose pressed to the front window of my house, watching all of your family’s stuff be unloaded from the truck into your new house when, suddenly, something was blocking my view.
You were standing about a metre away from the window, looking at me with your hands on your hips and a playful scowl plastered on your features.

I had moved away from the window suddenly and found myself on the floor after having fallen off the chair on which I had been standing.
When I picked myself up off the carpeted ground, with my cheeks bright red and feeling really stupid, I saw you clutching your stomach from laughter, your black hair falling into your eyes that were streaming with tears.

I didn’t think it was that funny, but your sense of humour has always been something I could never quite figure out.

You straightened up suddenly and glanced behind you, before you ran off in the direction of your new house.
I shrugged my shoulders and continued playing with the cars that were still scattered on the carpet behind me.

I was in the middle of a big race between two of my favourite cars when I heard a knock on the door.
My mother had always told me never to answer the door, so I ignored the knock and continued playing.

“Joshy,” my mom called, and I glanced up.
“Yeah mommy?” I asked, standing up and walking towards the sound of her voice.
“Come and meet your new neighbours,” she said as I arrived at the front door where I saw a man and a woman standing on the step, blocking my view of the front yard.
My mother invited them in and the woman turned to look behind her.

There you were; running crazily after a small dog, trying to beat it to a tennis ball you had just thrown.
“Addison,” your mother called, “Why don’t you put Puppy inside the house and come meet your neighbours?”
You did as you were told and less than a minute later, you were inside my house, and we were staring at each other apprehensively.

“Josh,” my mom said, “Why don’t you show Addison your toys?” The look on her face said ‘do it or else’.
“Come on,” I mumbled and led the way to my bedroom with you hot on my heels.
I stopped in the doorway of my room and turned to look at you.
“I’m Josh,” I told you boldly, “I’m five.”
“I’m Addison,” you told me, and you puffed out your chest impressively, “And I’m six. I’m older than you. But it doesn’t matter. I like you anyway, even if you are only little.”

I pouted, “I’m not little. I’m only a year younger than you. I can do all the things you can do…probably.”
“Well anyway, you’re still my friend,” you said with a smile.
“Want to see my toys? I have lots, because I don’t have any brothers or sisters. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“I have a brother. But he’s in heaven now. He was sick, and mommy said that God took him away to make him better and more happier.”
“Oh… Do you miss him?”
“Yeah. I’m sad cause I don’t get to see him anymore, but I know he’s better where he is. So, do you have any dinosaurs? They’re my favourites. I have 4 of them. One’s a T-Rex!”

You have always been obsessed with dinosaurs, even now, sixteen years later; dinosaurs are your favourite things.
I have never understood it, but your obsession is one of the things that make you who you are.
You wouldn’t be Addison if you ever gave up your love for dinosaurs.

“Yeah, I have 2 dinosaurs. Want to see?” I had replied, and your eyes lit up.
“Yeah!” you shouted and pushed past me into my room.
You have never been one to be polite.

We spent the rest of the afternoon playing in my bedroom.
After that, we were inseparable.
We became best friends, and people would comment about how close we were.
Spending time with you has always been at the top of my ‘Favourite Things To Do’ list.
That will never change.

We will soon get to spend forever together.