Hello, readers! We had such fun with the sports-themed series that we’ve decided to continue the trend. To get you excited for the upcoming winter issue of Shameless, we’ll be posting a series of blog posts every Friday on the theme of love and relationships. What does love mean? Who are our relationships with? What kinds of love are there? Sound off in the comment section or email our blog editor with your feedback. If you like what you’re reading, don’t forget to subscribe.
Your Shameless team
Dear Old Friend,
It’s not that I miss you.
I don’t know you at all anymore and it’s possible I never really did, so it’s not that I miss you. Maybe I just miss the idea of you. I don’t know why I think about you at all. Our friendship was intense, but it was brief, and it ended more than half our lives ago.
I doubt very much that you think of me at all, Old Friend.
We met at summer camp: I had claimed a top bunk and you, smiling, asked if the bunk below mine was taken. You had a preferred nickname that no one got right, and I had an unusual last name that was spelled wrong on every bunk list and team sign-up. You wore colourful woven friendship bracelets and promised to make me one and teach me how. (I never got the hang of it. Did I make you a terrible bracelet? Was that an omen?) We shared the curse of the Nut Allergic Kid in a dining hall filled with peanut butter sandwiches. We made perfect swim buddies because neither of us wanted to get out of the water. We spent rainy afternoons lying on your bed and doodling with markers on the wooden slats of the underside of my top bunk. We were automatic partners for everything. We were inseparable. When the summer ended, we cried in each other’s arms and swore we’d keep in touch.
If we hadn’t, if the distance and the ten-month absence had been the end of things, I might have understood. We were young, after all, and summer camp was such a world unto itself. Some things can’t be brought outside its hallowed gates.
But we did keep in touch, Old Friend.(more inside…)