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Array
(
[sid] => 5761
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => The Old Photograph
[time] => 2002-10-28 10:30:00
[hometext] => When life changes old friends slip away ~ I wrote this in memory of my closest childhood friend ~ who I regret losing contact with more than anything ~ now that so many years have gone by I cannot find her ~ Angela Dezarn if your out there somewhere please reply........I miss you
[bodytext] => It's only an old photograph, a color 3 by 5 with worn edges and a crease down the middle, the kind from a cheap disposable camera.
I find it buried beneath a pile of unworn cloths in a forgotten corner of my closet. It's just an old photograph, but it means so much more. I look past the worn edges and the crease to see her. The cute little ten-year-old girl who smiles back at me will be a sophomore in college this fall. I try to hold back the tears as I wonder where the last 9 years have gone, and her long natural blonde hair I admired has been dyed and cut short. Braces are gone, and glasses are contacts. I grip the photograph tighter, as if I could bring the little girl back. She was so sweet. So innocent. We made so many memories in our long friendship. Memories of a time when she played the part of my best friend who stuck by my side no matter how tough things got for either of us. She was given the space in my heart for the sister I never had. It's just an old photograph, but it means so much more. It's summers spent playing in the woods making secret forts that were only ours. It's winters spent by the fire sipping hot chocolate and sharing dreams. But most of all, it's the unspoken comfort we felt knowing we could rely on each other. The cute little ten-year-old girl has long outgrown her carefree childhood. She has moved on to a new phase in her life that will help her to follow her dreams. Soon I will be moving on as well. We have different lives and have not spoken in years. I can’t remember why, but I can't throw the old photograph away. Instead, I dry my tears and gently prop it on my desk, where it will remain as a gentle reminder of my childhood. Maybe one day soon it will give me the courage to call her, but who knows. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 173 [topic] => 43 [informant] => horseluver [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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