In My Head

School…just mentioning the entity brings back memories. A huge portion of the population would state that they hate the dreaded school year, but not me; all I can say is that it was the moment where I was set free…of course, in a way.

It marked the beginning of new tasks and another round of trips to the much loved ones: the friends.

Our time, that of my sisters and I, spent with them was sometimes brief, yet it provided all of us with what was much needed relief from our lives. We wouldn’t even have to do anything with them; just basking in their presence was enough to place a smile on my face. Catching a glimpse of them, hearing their voice...at that time, it was all I needed.

Then the storm came, and along with it, the terrible prolonged news of The Move. What had been talked about and considered to be nothing but a threat had finally blossomed to reality, yet for some reason, we still thought of it as a joke.

A week before the man that holds that wonderful silent authority over us came we spent a whole week at their house, wanting to do so much together, yet lacking the strength and will to do so, and a whole week passed, wasted, yet not wasted. We returned to them for some hours before we actually left and we shared laughs, still believing that this wasn’t happening…yet it was.

Nearly nine years we’ve known them, and during said time they have become apart of me and only recently have I truly opened up somewhat to them.

They’re so close, yet when I hear their voices or read their words, I find myself overcome with the feeling that maybe that was it, they’re gone and now we’re here, forced to meet new people on new territory, soon, our memories being the only connection to them we’ll have.

On the road we see red vans, the very small vehicle that their Mom owned, and are compelled to point them out—we don’t even say anything, the reasons for our actions are understood. But now, thinking back on it, all the times we shared in their presence, all the laughter, cries; their downfalls, ours…it’s what pulled us together, to allow us to stay close in what we are today: separated by miles of twisted roads, highways, and lost towns; empty valleys, farm land, and flooded crops; small truck stops, gift shops and on the go stores…but even with these in our way, blocking the view of the house in which they live, they are our fiends…our life…our love, and never will we or them, be split apart.