To The One I Left Behind

You were not supposed to die. My friend. I am all of thirty, and so should you be. Though I suspect you were a year or two older. Overaged brat. For you had a silly beard in Class X, if that's what you could call a rash of facial hair, when we never had one; now that's a dead giveaway. You would have gone bald too by now, while my superior genes shine through in their brave albeit receding lines. And fat, for that's what you were in school. That truth I never told you, for fear of an aching butt.

Our 'golden mile' is still much the same. Just the way we left it. All the way from Women's College to "Red Bag's" house. (By the way, the 'baggie' is married with two kids, I'm single & the kids ain't mine, thank you so). Same old twisting lane, with nothing but empty balconies staring into it. And, as before, after the gaggle have sashayed by, it's just that same old prof peering over the green gate as the world passes by. Now, how the hell does he have more hair..? Maybe I'll just call him a dirty ol' man, and make my peace!

Whenever I pass by, I make sure I take the scenic tour. On foot. Not for the birds, but for the memories. Every corner, every fork, all those sights, sounds and the gossip. Stay long enough and they all come up swirling.
I know you wouldn't agree, but the ladies of our time were a class by themselves. Oh, to be fifteen and hopelessly in love. With all of them! I would not take names, and I deny in advance all those link-ups your sick mind is throwing up. Oh, and remember how we signed truce with the threesome - the 'nancies'. Not easy considering the number of chalk pieces expended in pretty much one-sided artillery barrages. Now, don't be a whiner when I tell you that they whipped you good in your only foray into a game of Scrabble. Your triple-word effort being "Mices", which was one mouse too many in your vocab. Yuck. I had to miss three tuition classes for two weeks to escape the sniggering lady-bugs.

We did become good friends through college though, and may be a little more with Ms.Spex. Yup, that's another story. Now don't wonder, why all the women. Of course, because that's all you had on your mind. Except maybe weekends at the old Dutch fort. All the beach to ourselves, and some spicy gossip to go around. So much fun that used to be; and surprisingly, sans tobacco & liquor!

I moved out not long after we last met. It was not easy to accept, and in a way I needed to put some distance between me and all this. I did all that engine-study, as we had planned, and much more. For the kind of job i got into, all that seems ridiculous now. These days I meet up with my folks once a month. Time flies. It's never the same without you, or for that matter, "that-moped-gal". Gotcha there! Her dad being a fat cop never dimmed your enthu for her.

Now it's only a long trudge, to and from work. Throw in a few hours for food, sleep and a 100 channel TV, I live a full life. It all seems like yesterday, like the lingering taste of icecream soda from the corner shop. Ah well, those folks sell instant lotteries these days.

Did all this end too soon? Is growing up a prelude to parting of ways? Like when you left. As if you knew then, as I've begun to accept now, that those were the best days of our lives. Leaving on a high. Maybe we are wrong, maybe we would have had bigger and better, but those days will never see a re-run.

Yet there was so much more we could have had. To grow old together. With memories to cuddle and losses to mourn. Not gone when we were fifteen. There must be some mistake.